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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24162133">In At the Deep End</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mag_lex/pseuds/mag_lex'>mag_lex</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, And the chapter 9 comments funnily enough, Denial of Feelings, F/F, Gay Panic, Mentions of bullying in chapter 6, Slow Burn, Whump, divemaster!13, prepare for my standard au tropes, thasmin, yes this is the dive fic, you may have seen it before</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:55:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>37,484</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24162133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mag_lex/pseuds/mag_lex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yasmin Khan is on a leave of absence and in need of a change of scene. But she gets more than she bargained for when she meets a scuba instructor who makes her question everything.</p><p>(yes, it's back)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>158</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>194</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This may be familiar to some of you! I first posted it at the end of last summer but I wasn’t entirely happy with it so I took it down (and hoped to do something better with it). BUT apparently some folks wanted to read it again (thanks to everyone’s encouragement on twitter and curious cat!) and some had never heard of it so here we are! If anything, it’s given me the chance to reminisce about my own experiences of learning to dive on Ko Tao. </p><p>Anyway, I’m tweaking it a little because it was quite rushed in places. I plan to post a couple of chapters a week over the next few weeks so I hope it gives you something fun to read during lockdown :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Bangkok is overwhelming. To all intents and purposes it’s just as busy as London, but there is something about the air that makes Yasmin Khan uncomfortable. It’s so humid that it clings to her like a second skin, and she regrets her choice of clothing for the flight over; jeans were not a wise choice, despite the cold weather back home. Yaz takes a deep breath, settling herself as the world continues to move around her. Breathing the claggy air in, it is so hot and heavy that she can almost taste it. The air also carries with it the aroma of the unfamiliar, and Yaz can detect a mix of food, fumes, and the slight tinge of warm rubbish. It feels like she is instantly on the back foot, at a complete loss as to where she is or what she’s doing there. And it’s magnificent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz shifts her backpack straps, trying to shoulder the weight more effectively and wondering if she really needed to bring that spare jumper, after all. But her mum had insisted she prepare for all sorts of weather and, never even having left the country before, Yaz had to defer to her mum’s advice. Yaz mentally rolls her eyes at the idea of wearing long sleeves as she spies a group of tourists in flip flops, shorts, and vest tops as they stumble out of one bar and into the next one. Despite her tiredness and discomfort, Yaz is excited to be here. Already she can feel her worries start to ebb, each minute in a foreign land making home seem ever so far away. Just what she needs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>First things first, though. The backpack has to go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment that Yaz starts to move, she is accosted on all sides. Men outside the bars try to entice her in with the promise of happy hour, women sitting on tiny stools on the side of the road ask if she wants a massage. She squeezes herself into a covered side-street, instantly regretting the decision when she faces a mass of local shoppers walking in the opposite direction down the narrow pavement. After the sixth time bumping someone with her bag, she stops apologising, instead gritting her teeth in determination to make it to the end of the road and back out into the open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she emerges, she knows exactly where she’s ended up. Her sister had warned her about Khao San Road but at three in the afternoon, things are still relatively calm. Looking towards the end of the street, Yaz can see huge neon signs on the sides of the buildings that will no doubt come to life when the sun goes down. She hefts her backpack up once more, grimacing as the shift in weight makes the dampness of her t-shirt very apparent. Then, she steps into the road but forgets which way traffic works and gets the fright of her life when a tuk-tuk flies around the corner at the same time. It passes by so closely that she can feel the breeze it generates as it moves past her, sparing only a few inches between them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oi! Watch it!” she calls out, her heart beating fast with adrenaline and surprise, and not a small degree of embarrassment as several locals turn to look at the commotion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man driving simply looks back and smiles at her without a care in the world, and she feels even more foolish. She waves back sheepishly and scans her surroundings quickly, a skill that comes in handy not only at work but also in situations where she needs to make a quick escape. Her eyes fix on a rather dilapidated looking sign but it’s saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hostel</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the word buried in amongst images of several different flags and a smiley face emoji, and it’ll do. All she needs is a place to rest her head for the night and then she can decide what to do in the morning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The stairs to the first floor are narrow and short, and despite being relatively short herself, Yaz almost bangs her head on the doorway she has to duck through to get inside. It’s like someone carved this space out of the side of the building and despite the claustrophobia it induces, Yaz instantly feels at home. The room she enters contains a couple of battered-looking sofas that have obviously seen better days and which are currently occupied by a group of lads. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They ignore her in favour of continuing their card game and that suits Yaz just fine. Thankfully, there’s someone else on the other side of the room, manning what Yaz assumes is reception. He’s completely focused on the computer in front of him, so much so that Yaz has to clear her throat to get his attention. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Sorry. Just doing some...admin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz pokes her head around and laughs when she sees a Facebook page, which the boy quickly closes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Admin...right,” she says wryly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Best bit about working in a hostel?” he says, conspiratorially. “You meet</span>
  <em>
    <span> so </span>
  </em>
  <span>many girls.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Yaz sighs, finally abandoning her bag to the floor. Boys are all the same, although she has to admit that this one is kind of likeable. “Have you got any private rooms left?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Afraid not,” the boy says, scratching his chin. “But we have space in the dorms.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz winces. She’d been hoping to avoid sharing a room, but within moments she’s come to term with the fact that the whole point of this trip was to get away from home and out of her comfort zone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” she agrees. “Mixed, or…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy jumps to his feet, obviously eager to show Yaz around. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Either! Come on, I’ll show you what we’ve got and you can decide. What’s your name, by the way?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yaz,” she replies, holding out her hand instinctively. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy looks at it bemusedly before shaking it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yaz. Alright, Yaz. I’m Ryan. How long are you here for?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz shrugs. “Honestly, I’ve no idea. Just seeing where fate takes me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan nods approvingly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The best kind of answer. I like your style, Yaz. Me, I started working here six weeks ago - free bed and breakfast, you know - and I have no idea where I’m going next. Fun, innit?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess,” Yaz murmurs, a little apprehensive at the prospect. The idea of not knowing where she’s going is both thrilling and terrifying all at once. All she knows is that she has a flight home in 8 weeks’ time; what happens in between is anybody’s guess. The thought of home prompts her next question when Ryan’s accent finally registers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are you from, Ryan?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sheffield. By the sounds of it, you’re not far from there, either?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan opens the door to one of the dorms and Yaz is startled to see so many people asleep so late in the day. There are clothes all over the floor and with the curtains drawn, it’s just the wrong side of dark and dingy to seem appealing in any sense. After a moment, the smell of unwashed clothing and stale beer hits her nose, and it takes Yaz a moment to answer Ryan’s question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Erm...no, I’m from Sheffield, too. But I live in London,” she whispers, worried about waking the room’s occupants. She’s pretty sure she’s never slept that late in her life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Small world,” Ryan smiles, judging from her expression that this particular dorm is not going to work. “Come on,” he admits. “There’s a nicer one down the hall.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure enough, he’s right - the dorm he shows her next is light and tidy and only one person is in it, a brunette woman who’s reading on her bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Clara,” Ryan waves, and Yaz smiles at the woman as she puts her dog-eared paperback down. She is watching them both carefully, keen brown eyes fixed on Yaz’s backpack with interest. Yaz can’t see what she’s reading but the cover suggests something classic and her curiosity is piqued.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Better?” Ryan asks Yaz, and Yaz has to agree. She finds a spare bed and plonks her bag down next to it, trying not to scrutinise the room too closely given that the only occupant is watching her keenly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Much,” she agrees, relieved, and Clara laughs. Her laugh is warm and friendly and Yaz instantly likes her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me he tried to put you in that one down the hall?” Yaz nods, and Clara tuts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ryan, that room is disgusting and you know it! Plus, it’s full of smelly boys.” She pulls a face and picks up her book once more, conversation apparently ended. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan has the good grace to look embarrassed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, Yaz. We try and fill that one first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No biggie,” Yaz shrugs it off. “Do I need to pay now, or…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, come sign some paperwork and you’re free to go,” Ryan says, and Yaz is just leaving when Clara calls out to her, her nose still buried in her book. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Come back after, Yaz, I want to know all about my new roomie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz nods before realising that Clara won’t see her response. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Course.” She’s surprised but more than happy to make a new friend in this strange place and she feels a little thrill of excitement that not only has she made it to Thailand, she’s landed on her feet. Some of the anxiety that plagued her on the flight over eases and she grins at Ryan as he lets her through the door first. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the day passes in a whirlwind. Once she’s all paid up, Clara insists on taking Yaz to the best smoothie place in all of Bangkok and, after a change of clothes, Yaz is much more able to deal with the heat of the late afternoon. An ice-cold pineapple juice helps, too, and when it gets too much, they wander into 7-elevens to exploit the incredible air conditioning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, and inevitably, they end up in a bar off Khao San Road. One of the quieter ones - Yaz had insisted on getting away from the buzz of the main strip, which is a bit overwhelming - but it’s still busier than she’s seen any bar at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and she can still hear music blaring from speakers in the adjacent street. Yaz wonders if she’ll actually get any sleep tonight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Yaz. What brings you to Thailand?” Clara finally asks as she settles back in her seat, a sweating bottle of Chang beer in hand. She looks completely at home in the strange environment and Yaz wonders how long it’ll take for her to adjust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Long story,” she demurs, wondering how much she really wants to divulge to someone who’s practically a stranger. She and Clara have hit it off, there’s no doubting that, but she’s not sure she is ready to delve into the real reasons behind her trip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not going anywhere,” Clara replies, raising an eyebrow. “Look, it’s alright. You don’t have to tell me anything. But there’s something to be said for telling a random stranger your deepest, darkest secrets,” she winks, and Yaz laughs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right,” she eventually sighs. Clara has a point, but she’s not really in the mood to discuss it. “Maybe some other time? I just want to forget about it. For a little while.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clara looks at her sympathetically, a cool hand briefly coming to rest on Yaz’s bare knee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, I’m sorry. I won’t push. You want to know what brought me here?” Clara asks and doesn’t wait for an answer. “It’s also a long story, so buckle up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz settles back and listens as Clara regales her with a story of a nasty break-up but in a way that leaves her in tears of laughter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what, your ex is a bit of a dick,” Yaz finally says, wiping tears from her eyes. “He has no idea what he’s missing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She. She has no idea,” Clara gently corrects her, and Yaz is taken by complete surprise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Sorry, I just assumed...I don’t know why,” she mumbles, embarrassed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Yaz. A lot of people think I’m straight when they see me,” she smirks, taking a swig of her beer and pulling a face when she realises it’s already finished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Want another?” she asks, already on her feet and gesturing to Yaz’s finished lemonade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz nods, grateful for the chance to digest this new bit of information while Clara goes to queue at the bar. She’s not sure why she is so surprised, or shocked. Once she’d left Sheffield to move to London, her view of the world had broadened significantly; London was such a melting pot of cultures and people that it was almost impossible to be close-minded. But, when Yaz thought about it, all of her friends are straight, apart from a work colleague who she would barely consider a friend given how few shifts they shared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Clara...Clara </span>
  <em>
    <span>seemed </span>
  </em>
  <span>straight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Best thing for jetlag,” Clara comments as she returns bearing something colourful in a tall glass. “Pina colada for me, and for the lady…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a flourish, she deposits something similarly colourful in front of Yaz. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Before you say anything, this is non-alcoholic. A Virgin Mary,” Clara grins, and Yaz rolls her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Was that a subtle hint?” Yaz asks. Clara is incorrigible and seems to expect the reaction because she simply raises an eyebrow in response. For someone she’s only just met, Clara Oswald is one of the most stubborn people she’s ever encountered. Yaz sighs as she realised she’s walked right into the trap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For your information, no, I’m not,” she says, feeling her face grow warm as she takes a drink. Then she realises that she might sound like a loser. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I've had a couple of short-term relationships, believe it or not, and I date when work doesn't take over. I just haven’t found the right guy, yet, to make it last.” She shrugs and takes another sip to punctuate her sentence, letting the savoury tang resonate. Yaz might only be 24 but she's had enough experience to know what she's about. And her career is - or was - at the forefront of her mind for the past couple of years at the very least. Relationships just needed to come second, for a little while, until she got into the Met and started working her way up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just guys then?” Clara queries, her tone light. Of all the things for her to pick up on, Yaz muses, of course it would be that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep,” Yaz nods definitively. “Although I’m not sure if I’ll have much luck here,” she comments, laughing as she spots an Australian traveller drunkenly stumbling over his flip flops before cheering as he rights himself. She looks at her watch, shocked to see that they’ve been sitting in the bar for hours, now, and that it’s completely dark outside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, the days will be shorter here than back home. Close to the equator and all that,” Clara comments, and Yaz breathes a sigh of relief that they seem to have moved on from the topic of her love life. Or lack thereof. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are you going next?” Yaz asks, keen to push the conversation forward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where am I not going next, that’s the question!” Clara laughs, and Yaz can’t help but join in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure enough, Yaz doesn’t get much sleep that night. The distant sound of music - karaoke, shouting, and loudspeakers - mean that there is constant background noise, but it’s constant enough that, with a good pair of earplugs, she does eventually drop off. And she’s glad she’s in the same dorm as Clara, because she can hear the racket that other occupants make down the hall and realises why everyone was still asleep in the middle of the afternoon when she checks her phone for the time. 5 am. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which, really, is 11pm back home, and now she’s wide awake. With a sigh, Yaz rolls onto her back and stares at the bunk above. Someone is up there, snoring lightly, but she has no idea when they arrived or who they even are. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Feeling out of sorts, Yaz decides to get up. It’s hard to break the habit and she’s not one to linger in bed for hours on end. Besides, she could do with a coffee before she emails her mum and as she quickly gets changed in the dark, she wonders what she’ll do today. It’s hers for the taking and the possibilities are endless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz draws up her mental map of Thailand as she tugs on her shorts. Perhaps she could get a bus up north, to Chiang Mai. Bangkok is fun, but there are limited options for what to do other than eat, drink, and party and Yaz is not really all that keen on either of the latter two options.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To her great surprise, Ryan is still manning reception when she wanders through. The sofas are empty at this time of day apart from a snoring reveller, who has passed out over the arm of one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morning, Ryan,” she murmurs, and he grins up at her in surprise. Yaz imagines that he normally sees people going to bed at this time, rather than getting up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Yaz. Did you just get in?” He frowns as he takes in her appearance. “You look fresh as a daisy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t drink,” Yaz explains. “Crashed instead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah yeah, that’s fair enough,” Ryan agrees. “Wish I had some of your sense.” He gestures to a pot of coffee behind him. “Don’t tell the others but help yourself to some caffeine if you need it.” He yawns and scrubs at his eyes. “Night shifts are the worst.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz hums in agreement. “Tell me about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh? What do you do back home?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz leans against the back of the sofa, inhaling the aroma of the coffee and letting it wake her up gently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m in the Met.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan’s eyebrows shoot up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For real? How long are you away for?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz takes a sip, buying time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Couple of months,” she says quietly, hoping he won’t ask her any more questions. Two months isn’t a normal length of holiday by any stretch and in reality it isn’t a holiday at all. It’s a leave of absence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nods, sensing her reticence, and shuts his mouth after a moment. Yaz is grateful he opted against asking the most obvious question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Awesome,” he says instead, his expression softening. “Hey, did you decide where to go next?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz shakes her head. “Maybe Chiang Mai, see the elephants,” she tentatively suggests, waiting for a suggestion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As cool as the elephants are...you want to get down south,” he replies, and Yaz is instantly intrigued. Most people she’d talked to about Thailand had told her to go north to see the temples, animal sanctuaries, and jungle. But part of her wants fate to take the lead, and that means leaving her decisions in other people’s hands for once. As much as Yaz wants to see Chiang Mai, she has 8 weeks to explore and more than enough time to get up there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah? What’s down south?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ryan nods avidly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The islands. Best time of year to get down there. Look, I’ll show you. Come over here a sec.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gestures excitedly and starts typing as Yaz makes her way over to the desk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can join me, I won’t bite,” he smiles, and Yaz is completely disarmed by his grin. She wonders if Ryan is her type. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look at that water and tell me you’d go somewhere else,” he sighs, tilting the monitor and letting Yaz see for herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Although she’d seen pictures before she left, Yaz had tried not to do too much research into her trip. She’d wanted to let things happen organically, and as she sees what Ryan has pulled up for her, a shiver of excitement runs through her. The water is turquoise, the beaches pristine white, and the palm trees…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz has to pinch herself when she realises she could go there. Today. As far as Bangkok feels removed from London, the images Ryan is showing her seem like yet another world away from the bustle of Bangkok.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what else is down there…” Ryan murmurs, typing something into Google so quickly that Yaz doesn’t have time to register it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Images of fish pop up, hundreds and hundreds of them. Yaz spies a turtle, and a huge fish - she’s pretty sure it’s a shark, actually, but its mouth is wide and it has no sharp teeth. She looks into the search bar and sees the name Koh Tao. The name rings a bell but she doesn’t know why, and she says it aloud to get a feel for it to see if that will help her place it. No luck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How far away is this place?” she asks, abandoning her coffee. Adrenaline has usurped the need for caffeine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“8 hours or so. The bus leaves at 6,” Ryan says, looking at his watch. “I reckon you could grab a seat if you wanted?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz panics. Last-minute decisions are not her forte but she thinks about her belongings - she hadn’t bothered to unpack anything but the bare essentials last night. It was almost as if she knew she’d be leaving at short notice. And it's not like her decision has much in the way of long-term implications. She is free to do as she chooses, when she chooses. It's a liberating sensation and Yaz realises she'll have to get used to the freedom after several years of consistent shift work. No more nine to five thinking for the time being, she promises herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz is already contemplating whether to wake Clara to say goodbye, and that dilemma is the only thing to give her pause. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have a pen and paper?” she asks, reasoning that she can leave her number and Clara can get in touch if she wants. Ryan hands her the items and as she scribbles Clara a note he calls the bus company, confirming that there is, in fact, a seat available for that very day. Yaz dashes back to her room, shoving her pyjamas and toothbrush into the top of her bag and leaving the note for Clara next to her book. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pride and Prejudice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It's not what Yaz had expected in the slightest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bye, Clara,” she whispers, holding her breath when the woman shifts in response. She creeps out of the room, leaving Clara and the mystery snorer to their dreams. There’s something about sneaking out first thing in the morning on a new adventure that gives Yaz a thrill she’s never felt before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She thanks Ryan as he points her in the direction of the bus stop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be heading down there myself in a couple of weeks, I reckon,” Ryan says. “Here, give me a message if you want to meet up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yaz takes the scrap of paper and shoves it in her pocket as she starts to walk down the road, wondering if there’s anything to it other than meeting as friends. She suspects that he won’t turn up in Koh Tao at all, and this was just a way to get her number, but she thanks him for his help and turns to wave farewell, wondering if she’ll ever see him again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She steps past empty bottles and cigarette butts, and the street cleaners are already out in force, hosing down the pavement. All of a sudden, Bangkok seems old and tired. Yaz is ready for something new, and the mental image of Koh Tao has seared itself onto her brain. Yes, she’s made the right decision, and with a spring in her step she gratefully hands her backpack to the luggage handler, stepping onto the bus with a renewed sense of purpose.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The precarious bus ride reassures Yaz that she’s made the right decision to leave public transport behind, if only for a little while. Watching Bangkok wake up in the early dawn had been absorbing, and the glimpses of temples dotted in amongst the restaurants and bars of Bangkok had been an unexpected surprise. Briefly, Yaz wonders if leaving the city so soon had been the right decision, but then she thinks of the pictures Ryan had shown her of the islands. She visualises green-blue sea and white sand as they pass by rush hour traffic, crazy moped drivers, and so many 7-11s that Yaz stops counting them. After five or six hours the monotony of the road, the early start, and the remnants of jetlag sends her to sleep, and she wakes only when a fellow backpacker nudges her on his way off the bus at the ferry terminal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After so long living in London, Yaz is ready to fire back with a reprimand but she catches herself. This isn't London. The boy apologises in a mumble and Yaz bites her tongue, wondering if her temper has always been this frayed. She really does need a holiday.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sigh of relief, Yaz steps off the stuffy bus and into a queue of tourists waiting for the ferry by a rickety pier. She spies a real mix of people and her ears pick up on several different languages and accents, but all of them have one thing in common: they want to get to the islands. She’s surprised to see just how many of them have the same red sticker she does - the boat will be dropping people off at several islands, and Yaz can see the party-goers heading for Koh Phangan for the Full Moon Party - and wonders if she’s just joined a very well-trodden tourist trail. With a sigh, she finds a seat outside to get away from the noise and chatter inside the boat. It’s nice to have some space and time to think, and looking out at the sea is calming. She doesn’t see much of it in London.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes longer than Yaz expects to get to the island; for most of the journey, all she can see is vast expanses of sea. But finally, in the hazy distance, Yaz can see land emerging. She isn’t sure at first because it looks like a mere smudge on the horizon, but as the boat powers onwards the landmass takes shape and solidifies. A tiny island, surrounded by swathes of choppy water that looks deep and unfamiliar. Even the colour of it is different to the sea back at home, and Yaz is surprised to see that not only is it an appealing shade of turquoise and emerald, but that she can see rocks several metres beneath them. She’s never seen water so clear or inviting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For once, the images do justice to the reality of the place. Yaz is awed from the moment she steps off the boat, surrounded by hundreds of other travellers who are relieved to have made it to this little slice of paradise. As she walks down the dock, she takes her time, forcing her pace to slow. Living in London means that she is used to walking fast, weaving in and out of people as they go about their similarly rushed business. Here, there is no hurry whatsoever. A gentle breeze is sufficient to move her forwards and it provides a welcome reprieve from the stuffier air of Bangkok.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz opts to ignore the various touts awaiting her at the end of the pier, instead wandering straight into the town. She takes a left, opting to follow a route that winds down by the beach, along which are dotted several shops, bars, restaurants, and hotels. The evening is drawing in and Yaz's path is soon lit by fairy lights from the bars and fluorescent light spilling out of the shops. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is a quiet murmur of patrons but otherwise the island is peaceful, the solitude interrupted by quiet strains of music, laughter, or cicadas hiding in the bushes that decorate the open-plan hotels lining the narrow path. Towels and bikinis hang from balconies and Yaz can hear the sea. She’s excited to get into it and relax after a long couple of days of travelling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything is quaint, and cute, and Yaz is utterly in love with the place within minutes. As she walks, she notices that several buildings have a distinctive flag outside them - a red flag with a white strip diagonally across it. Curious, Yaz slows even further and reads the name of the next shop she comes across with a flag. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Doc’s Divers</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A dive shop. A vague bell rings in the back of her mind and she recalls reading about learning to dive in Thailand - then, finally, it clicks. Koh Tao is where people come to learn to dive. She knew the name seemed familiar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Evening!” a voice calls out from inside the shop and Yaz startles, not realising there was anybody in there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” she calls out tentatively, hanging back. She isn’t sure why she’s so hesitant to go in, but it feels like she’s been caught snooping somewhere she shouldn’t be. Eyeing up the wetsuits dripping to her right, Yaz certainly feels out of her depth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can come in, you know. It’s bigger than it looks in here, I promise!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hearing the woman’s accent, Yaz wonders exactly how many northerners she’s going to bump into on this trip and, still clueless as to who is speaking, wanders inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be out in a sec.” A head finally pokes around an open door to her left and Yaz finally sees the owner of the voice: a blonde woman with a cheerful smile. “Make yourself at home, if you like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her smile sets Yaz at ease and she gratefully takes a seat by the desk, dumping her bag on the floor where it lists to one side. But Yaz pays it no mind, too distracted by the photos on the wall. It seems that the woman she’s waiting for features in several of them, posing with so many different people that Yaz doesn’t even try to count them all. But they all look happy, their smiles beaming out at her, and Yaz is instantly intrigued about the place she’s wandered into. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, sorry about that. Some of the equipment needed a proper wash,” the woman explains, drying her hands on the towel before she slides onto a seat across the desk from Yaz. She’s dressed in denim cut-off shorts and a vest top that shows off her toned arms and shoulders. She’s lightly tanned and looks so utterly at home in this strange environment that Yaz finds herself relaxing in her company. It helps to hear a familiar accent, too. As much as she’s enjoyed travelling alone so far, Yaz knows she can’t be by herself for too long or the magnitude of what she’s doing will sink in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m guessing you wanted to dive?” the woman asks, eyeing Yaz carefully. “We have a boat heading out at eight tomorrow morning, and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She spins in her chair to look at the whiteboard behind her, craning her neck to read the writing scribbled on it. She is full of energy and Yaz feels herself coming to life in her presence, like she’s absorbing vitality simply by being around her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have three spaces left, if you fancy it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flummoxed, Yaz senses an opportunity to get a word in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t dive,” she blurts. Suddenly, she’s not entirely sure what she’s doing here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! But you want to learn? I imagine that’s why you’re here. A lot of people come here for that very reason.” The woman doesn’t seem too bothered by Yaz’s lack of experience. She braces her arms against the table and looks at Yaz expectantly, and Yaz realises that she needs to give the correct answer or risk disappointing her. As much as she doesn’t want to do that, she’s also not sure how she ended up here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure. Still deciding what to do, to be honest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name?” The woman leans back in her chair, head tilted to one side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yasmin. But my friends call me Yaz.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, then, Yaz. And I’m calling you Yaz, cos we’re friends now. I’m Jess and I own this shop, as you can probably tell. Have done for a few years, now, and I’ve lost count of the number of people who have come through that door. I like to think I’m a good judge of character and you, Yaz, you seem to me to be the kind of person who’d be up for an adventure. And you’ve come to the right place! Come with me and I’ll show you things that’ll stay with you for the rest of your life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How could Yaz turn down something like that? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman’s enthusiasm is infectious and she feels a flicker of genuine excitement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Yaz can feel herself grinning, mirroring the woman facing her over the desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise. And I always keep my promises.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite her reservations, Yaz finds herself completely swayed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, then. What’s the deal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you can do a discovery dive if you’re not sure, that way you don’t have to commit to anything before you know if you’ll like it. Or, you can jump straight in at the deep end-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess left a dramatic pause, eyes widening for comic effect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-and do an open water course, with me as your instructor. I’ve actually got one space left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another sign, Yaz muses. The universe seemed to be full of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A course? How long is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll do four dives over two or three days, normally. Unless you’re in a hurry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz shakes her head, gesturing to her bag. “I’ve only just got here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect. Where are you staying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally, Yaz would have found the string of questions slightly overwhelming and invasive but something about this woman put her at ease. Her eyes are kind, and despite her garrulous nature, which Yaz would normally have found mildly frustrating, she feels the opposite; this woman is utterly charming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no idea,” she sighs, realising that it was already getting late and she has yet to find a place to sleep for the night. Once again, she wonders how she’s ended up here. She doesn’t have an answer for most of Jess’s questions but instead of inspiring panic, Yaz opts to go with the flow for once. She hopes it will lead to good things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess ponders the dilemma for a moment, tapping her chin with a finger. Yaz can pinpoint the eureka moment because her face lights up even more than before, if that is even possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I suggest somewhere?” Jess asks. “It’s not far from here, and I know the guy that owns the place. I’ll show you myself, if you like. I’m pretty much done for the evening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz finds herself nodding, wondering if she’d start to second guess her decisions when she had five minutes to sit down and think them through. But she knew that she’d probably chicken out of diving altogether if she thought about it too much. She needs to get out of her comfort zone and see what life has to offer. What’s the point of being here if she doesn’t?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome! Just give me five,” Jess says, holding up her hand to flash Yaz five fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Jess gathers her things, Yaz gets to her feet to take a closer look at the pictures on the wall. The woman - Jess - is clearly good at her job if these relaxed faces are anything to go by. In every single picture she is grinning, eyes crinkling with delight as she poses for a photo with who, Yaz now realises, are her learner divers. Next to the photo collage is a patch of wall on which people have scribbled notes in marker pen, most of them saying how much fun they had on their dives and how glad they are that Jess taught them to dive. A couple of messages even say that Jess is the best divemaster they’ve ever met. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Divemaster</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That sounds official, and reassuring enough for Yaz to realise that she’s in safe hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready, Yaz?” Jess beams, a motorbike helmet in one hand and a bag in the other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we driving there?” Yaz asks, gesturing to the helmet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no. When I said this place wasn’t far away….”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess trails off as she heads out the door and leaves the sentence hanging as she locks up. She turns, takes ten steps to the left, and enters the building next door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I really wasn’t lying,” she grins, and Yaz grins in response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Graham? Are you here?” Jess calls out as they make their way inside, and Yaz gasps when she realises they’ve entered a bar that opens up straight onto the beach. There are fairy lights strung up in the palm trees and she can hear the water as it laps at the shore in the dark. It’s not loud and lairy like the bars in Bangkok; there are people dotted around the place, sitting on cushions scattered on the sand, but the vibe is completely different to the bars of the city.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Doc. Fancy seeing you here.” An older man appears from behind the bar and Yaz adds to her mental tally of how many Brits she can encounter in less than 48 hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know. I may as well move in. But you can’t quite tear me away from my beach shack, Graham, despite the spiders.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz shivers at the idea and Graham laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a fan of 'em?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz shakes her head vehemently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Graham, meet Yaz. Yaz, this is Graham, owner of the finest beach bar and hotel on the island!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Yaz. Nice to meet you,” Graham smiles, holding out his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you, Graham,” Yaz agrees, shaking it. She feels Jess watching them eagerly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you got a spare room?” Jess asks once their hands drop back, and Yaz is relieved when Graham nods. Now that she’s seen the place, she doesn’t want to look elsewhere. And right now, all she wants to do is have a shower and some dinner. It’s been a long day, and she has a feeling that tomorrow will be even more tiring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about I show you up there? You can get rid of that bag, kick back, and relax.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now you’re making it hard for me to want to leave, Graham,” Jess complains. “But I really should. Yaz, I’ll see you at seven tomorrow morning, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz nods, and when Jess leaves she is surprised to feel a slight pang at her absence. She barely knows the woman and yet she has a way of lighting up a room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s a character, our Doc,” Graham says, nodding his head in the direction of the rooms. “Did she convince you to dive?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz nods and Graham chuckles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’d convince even the most reluctant person. I’ve never seen anything like it. But don’t you worry, Yaz. She’s good at her job. You’re going to have a great time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiles as he opens the door to a room and lets Yaz enter first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is gobsmacked at the place she’s just walked into. It’s far nicer than the hostel in Bangkok; a huge double bed with crisp white sheets takes up half of the room, and beyond it lies a balcony looking out to sea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoah,” she mutters, carefully depositing her bag so as not to scratch any paint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm...how much is this?” Yaz has more than enough money to last two months, she reckons, but she’s always been careful with her funds. Splurging on a hotel on her second night didn’t quite feature in her budgeting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A friend of the Doc’s gets mates rates,” Graham winks, and when Yaz converts the baht to pounds she is both relieved and surprised. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Graham waves her off, dismissing the question. “Positive. Now, make yourself at home and when you’re ready for dinner just come and find me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shuts the door behind him and Yaz lets out a whoop of delight when she opens up the sliding doors to step outside, onto the balcony. She can see the moon reflecting off the sea; there are the vague shapes of people chilling out on the beach below, but otherwise it is quiet and calm and utterly beautiful. Yaz fixes her gaze upwards and as the stars start to make themselves known, she considers herself lucky to be alive.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yaz! Come on, Yaz, wake up, mate.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yaz grumbles at the noise. It sounds like it’s coming from far away, and it’s familiar but she can’t figure out why. Or, for that matter, why someone is trying to wake her up. She was having a wonderful dream and waking up is proving hard to do.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Something jostles her roughly, and her noises of protest increase in volume.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“‘m up, mum.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not your mum, darlin’. But I don’t think she’ll be impressed if I left you here like this.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yaz tries to move and that’s when the pain hits. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ow,” she wheezes, her eyes flying open as she tries to figure out what’s gone wrong. One minute, she was flying in a spaceship and the next...her partner, Dave, is hovering over her anxiously. Ground. She’s on the ground. It’s damp, she can feel that much, but she also feels numb and that in itself is terrifying.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What the...fuck,” she groans, feeling a dull throb in her leg. She reaches for it but Dave’s hands are already there, pressing tight against her inner thigh. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Perp did a right number on you,” he explains, thumbing the radio on his vest. His hand is painted red with blood but the colour doesn’t look remotely real. Yaz lets her head fall back to the pavement as he puts in a request for help and by the sound of it, it’s not the first time he’s asked for it. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They’re on their way,” he lies - Yaz can read him like a book - and suddenly she feels very tired. Just keeping her eyes open is proving exhausting and it would be much, much easier if she could just close them. So she does. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dave is still calling her name and then there’s the sound of sirens in the distance, and Yaz knows she is safe. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Except the sirens won’t stop. They keep going, and they start to sound weirdly consistent. Like a beeping, rather than the tell-tale whine of help approaching. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a jerk, Yaz’s hand shoots out of the duvet, blindly reaching for her phone to stop the alarm. For a moment, she is completely confused. She’s hot, sweating beneath the covers, but the air conditioning means that the room is cold and her exposed arm feels instantly chilled. She yanks it back inside the covers, trying to remember where she is. It’s dark outside, and quiet; but after a few moments the sound of her heartbeat recedes and she can hear something else. The sea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her leg twinges as she rolls over but she ignores it, more than used to the phantom pain. Stubbornly, she swings her legs out of bed, embracing the feel of cool air on her overheated skin. Air. She needs air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz takes a few steps towards the sliding doors, clumsily thumbing the catch and stepping into the early morning air as soon as she can get the doors to cooperate and move aside. She breathes deep, clenching the railing in front of her to ground herself as she focuses her eyes on the horizon, forcing herself to wake properly. Although the counsellors had told her that nightmares would probably linger for a while, she’d hoped they’d have gone by now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz tries to calm her breathing, remembering the techniques she’d been taught. It’s hard, though, when her brain won’t stop moving a hundred miles a minute and her dreams feel so real. She stands there for endless minutes, simply trying to get on top of her anxiety. She feels a small semblance of control restore itself as the sun breaks over the horizon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Today, she has plans. Today, she will not let her body or mind control her. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Morning, Yaz!” Graham calls out, and Yaz is surprised to see him up so early. The bar is empty - unsurprisingly, given the hour - but he’s hard at work cleaning up and, apparently, setting up breakfast. Yaz spies a West Ham scarf above the bar and the little reminder of home helps settle her nerves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you sleep alright?” he asks, and Yaz nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Today’s the big day, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods again, before realising that she should probably offer up something more substantial. Graham likes to chat, as she'd learned last night over dinner, but she doesn't feel particularly sociable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” she breathes, feeling a slight flutter of nerves replace the anxiety that had so rudely awoken her. “Today’s the day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you can’t head out there without breakfast,” Graham chides, seeing her head for the exit. “Take a banana, at least?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz hesitates - she never normally eats breakfast and she certainly doesn’t feel like it this morning - and Graham insists. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go on. They’re nicer over here. Must be that extra vitamin D.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She takes the fruit from his hand, surprised at how small it is, and, realising he won’t let her leave without ensuring she eats something, quickly peels it and takes a bite. He’s right. It tastes delicious and the moment the sweetness hits her tastebuds, she lets out a hum of delight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Told you,” he says, smiling at her expression. “Now go and have fun, and I want to hear all about it when you get back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright," she agrees. "I'll see you in a few."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And Yaz? Don't worry. You're in safe hands."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He winks at her and she relaxes slightly, the interaction going some way to soothe her frazzled nerves. But as Yaz heads to the dive shop she notices that it's still locked up and fishes her phone from the pocket of her shorts, eyeing the time. She's a few minutes early but she also spots a message from Clara.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You abandoned me! Rude. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughs and is about to respond when the sound of a moped engine shatters the early morning silence. Yaz turns to look and sure enough, Jess is making her way down the narrow street. Yaz holds her breath as she wobbles precariously around uneven patches and is relieved when she finally comes to a stop outside the shop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hiya, Yaz!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her smile is infectious and, despite not being much of a morning person, Yaz is instantly at ease. She pockets her phone without replying and makes a mental note to respond later. Right now, the woman in front of her has her complete attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, Jess."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She watches as the other woman slides off the moped with surprising grace, rummaging for her keys as she does so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry I'm late, have you been waiting long? Did Graham give you some breakfast?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess looks at the watch on her wrist. Even from a few feet away, Yaz can see that it’s not a normal watch; it has all sorts of buttons and it looks too chunky to be just a plain old watch. She files the obvious question away for a more appropriate time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not at all, and yes, he insisted on it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good. You'll need your energy today but don't worry, there's food on the boat, too. Come on, let's get you kitted out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz follows her into the depths of the shop, taking in rows of equipment she can only hazard a guess at. There are hundreds of tanks, and fins and snorkel masks lines an entire wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whoah," she murmurs. "That's a lot of kit."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We get a lot of divers," Jess grins. "The other two who are starting their open water today are travelling together so I thought I'd get you by yourself and make a headstart on getting you set up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz nods appreciatively as Jess sizes her up. It feels a little strange to have another woman looking at her body so closely and Yaz resists the urge to fold her arms protectively in front of herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're a little shorter than me, so….here," Jess says, handing Yaz a wetsuit from the rack behind her. "The water here is warm so this is just a precaution, really."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The legs and arms of the suit are shorter than Yaz expected and immediately she wonders if she'll be able to hide the scar on her leg. She mentally kicks herself, wondering what she was thinking of when she signed up for this. Of course she'd have to get changed in front of people, and the scar is so fresh that it's hard to miss. Just thinking of it makes Yaz feel uncomfortable and a prickle of apprehension makes her hesitate just long enough for Jess to notice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can try it on over there, if you like," Jess suggests cheerfully, pointing to an adjoining office. "Nobody's allowed in there but me," she confides with a wink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's as if Jess has sensed her nerves and Yaz gratefully takes her up on the offer, pulling the door closed as she strips down to her bikini. Getting the wetsuit on is harder work than she'd imagined but she eventually wriggles it on and is relieved to see that the material is long enough to cover the mark on her leg. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright in there?" Jess calls, and Yaz can see through the crack in the door that she's preoccupied, filling a bag with equipment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Perfect," Yaz responds, yanking the wetsuit down again. It smells like damp rubber and despite only being in it for a minute or so, it’s warm enough that she's glad to be out of it. When she emerges from the office, Jess holds up several pieces of gear for her to inspect. One looks like a rather strange waistcoat, another like an octopus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, here we have your BCD and regulator. This is what keeps you afloat on the surface and breathing underneath it." She patiently talks Yaz through it all, assuring her that she'll explain more thoroughly on the boat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not forgetting the weight belt," she says finally. "When we get on board we'll adjust this, so don't worry about that for now. And when the others get here I'll explain what we need to cover in the course but for now, relax and get ready for your first ever dive! Are you excited?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite having done countless dives herself, there’s no mistaking the excitement in Jess’s expression. But Yaz nods a little uncertainly. She has no idea what she's in for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You'll be my buddy today," Jess smiles. "We always dive in pairs for safety and since the others are already a pair, I'll make extra sure you're safe."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, she gives Yaz's arm a brief squeeze, and the contact is comforting. Yaz breathes a sigh of relief. It helps to know that Jess will be looking out for her because she is clearly competent but also completely magnetic. Yaz feels like she’s under a spell of some kind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment is interrupted by the distinctive sound of an angry-sounding Scottish woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I told you to take a left!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You were facing the other direction! I was saying it should have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>left."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz smirks at the sounds of a minor domestic disagreement. There are times when she is very glad to be single.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look, before we go in...are you sure you want to do this?" The man’s voice is hushed but she and Jess share a conspiratorial look as they eavesdrop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course I do! It's why we booked a honeymoon here, Rory. Don’t tell me you’re changing your mind?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No! No, of course not. It's just that...I get seasick."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz hears a sigh and then the sliding door opens and in walks the tallest woman she's ever seen, trailed by a rather sheepish looking man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is it, right?" The ginger woman turns to look at the man and he nods. "I can't believe we're so late!" she hisses at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She plasters on a smile as Jess wanders over, extending her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm guessing you're Amy?'" Jess asks, wry grin firmly in place. "Rory told me all about you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh did he?" Amy asks, fixing Rory with a look. "All good things I hope?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nothing but," Jess affirms, winking at Rory and easily moving the conversation onwards. "We'll get you kitted out and into the water in no time. This is Yaz, by the way, she'll be doing the course with you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz smiles at the pair of them, hoping that their bickering won't continue on the boat. But  Jess clearly has a way with people and thankfully, Amy relaxes a little. She smiles back at Yaz and they make small talk as Jess helps Rory gather his things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So...have you done this before?” Amy chews her lip. It seems she’s just as nervous as Yaz, and it’s oddly reassuring to know that someone as bold and brassy as Amy is worried, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never,” Yaz smiles. “I have no idea what to expect, to be honest. And you guys..you’re here on your honeymoon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amy groans, hiding her eyes briefly with her hand. “You heard that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz laughs lightly. “It was hard not to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rory can be a bit of a wuss, sometimes,” Amy gripes, but her expression softens as she looks over at her husband struggling to tug the wetsuit down his legs. Jess moves to help when it becomes obvious he’s at risk of falling over. “And he’s one of a kind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite her earlier reservations, Yaz revises her opinion on being single. It would be nice to have someone look at her the way Amy looks at Rory, she realises. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you here on your own?” Amy asks, finally tearing her eyes away as Rory finally frees his leg with a cheer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Yaz sighs. “Thought I could do with some quality ‘me’ time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amen, sister,” Amy agrees, and then it’s her turn to get kitted up while Yaz questions Rory. She really can’t figure out their relationship but it’s fun to get to know them, and she’s glad they’re diving with her. For the other members of her group, she certainly could have done worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, the four of them are ready to go. While Jess had been kitting them out, several other divers arrived and gathered their gear, clearly seasoned pros as they laughed and joked about their hangovers. Yaz finds them a bit intimidating but they seem friendly enough; most of them sneak in a cheeky cigarette before Jess tells them off for damaging their lungs and they roll their eyes at her affectionately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on then, gang! Off we go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz feels a thrill of excitement as she picks up her kit bag, which is heavier than she’d anticipated. Carefully, she lugs it onto the beach at the back of the shop, where a narrow motorboat is awaiting them in ankle-deep water. Already, a couple of locals are loading it up with tanks, which clang off each other as they come to rest on the bottom of the boat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not going to sink in that, right?” Rory asks, and Yaz secretly wonders the same thing. The boat doesn’t look nearly big, or deep, enough to carry so many people and so much equipment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d be surprised at how accommodating it can be,” Jess says as she helps the men load up the last of the tanks. Another couple of divers help her and when Jess talks to them quietly, she realises they must be leading the other groups. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can my little fam gather ‘round a sec?” Jess asks, beckoning her three divers over. Yaz is surprised to feel how warm the water is around her ankles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, we’ll use this to get to the bigger boat and when we’re on it I’ll talk you through setting up your tank. We’ll go over some of the basics on board, sort out your weights, and last, but not least, I’ll talk you through what you can expect to see! Which is what you’re all here for,” she grins. “Trust me, once you’re in the water, you’ll be having a ball. There’s so much to see out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess is right. The journey to the boat is brief and Yaz pays keen attention while Jess teaches them how to set up their gear. It’s hard work, operating in such a confined space, but Jess is patient and thorough and Yaz loves to try new things so she tries to learn as much as she can. It makes a nice change from commuting to work, that’s for sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All around them, the qualified divers are rapidly donning their gear and jumping in, leaving just the four of them to catch up. It happens so fast that Yaz is shocked to see that they’re now alone, and she turns in time to see Jess pulling off her t-shirt and shorts so that she can get into her wetsuit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s grateful that Rory and Amy are preoccupied and that the boat is otherwise practically empty because it takes her a moment to realise that she’s staring. Yaz is not a starer. Sure, she’s observant because she has to be at work; reading non-verbal cues and looking at crime scene photos mean that she tries to absorb visual information like a sponge. But stare? She’s normally more subtle than that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz also has a photographic memory, and what she sees now is an image that will linger, she can tell. The first thing that catches her eye is Jess’s rainbow bikini top, which is practical but cut in a way that is incredibly flattering. It frames her abs, which tense as she bends over to remove her shorts, revealing a matching pair of bikini bottoms that just about cover a toned backside and strong, toned thighs. The muscles of Jess’s calves tense and relax as she steps into her wetsuit and she looks up, making direct eye contact with Yaz. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz freezes before doing a complete 180 and trying to remember what she’s meant to be doing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Think, Yaz </span>
  </em>
  <span>. But all logical thought seems to have taken flight, leaving her stranded, and it takes her a long moment to recall the next steps as she stares helplessly at her tank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Rory is having some issues with his equipment and Jess is distracted while Yaz removes her own clothing, trying to squeeze into the wetsuit as quickly as she can. Having so much skin on show is unnerving, and the material is uncooperative so what feels like it should take seconds takes much, much longer. Yaz feels her cheeks burning as she tries to balance, almost toppling at the last second. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then there’s a warm hand on her shoulder, steadying her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take your time,” Jess murmurs, and Yaz feels her breath catch. She blames nerves about the upcoming dive, and nods, not trusting her voice. Or her brain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, they’re all ready, and Yaz stifles a laugh at how daft they all look, tubes and masks poking about all over the place. It’s also hot in the suit and the tank weighs on her back, making her feel awkward and clumsy. She tries not to laugh as Rory almost trips over his fins, and the three of them waddle ungracefully over to the side of the boat, to where Jess is waiting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to jump in first, to make sure you land alright in the water. Just make sure you put your regulator in, and hold onto it and your mask as you step off the side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She demonstrates, and Yaz wonders how someone who is so gangly on land can look so elegant jumping off the side of a boat while laden with so much gear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz insists that the other two go first, before taking the leap herself. The moment she lands in the water, the weight on her back essentially disappears, and she tries to get used to swimming with so much gear on. It’s awkward at first, and she swallows more sea water than she’d like, but Jess guides them to her with her voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment they try to descend, Yaz panics. There’s something unnatural about breathing underwater and her head pops back up. She spits out the regulator, trying to get a handle on her breathing. The others are waiting for her and she’s letting them down; she can just about see them underneath her. After a few more aborted attempts, Jess surfaces and removes her own regulator and mask. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay, Yaz? Take your time, there’s no hurry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She waits patiently as Yaz tries again, and after a couple more attempts, suggests they try something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about if you hold on to me? Would that help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz nods, frustrated at her inability to let go and relax. She just needs to switch off, she knows she does, and yet every fibre of her being is protesting at what she’s trying to do. But the feel of Jess’s hand in her own is marvellously distracting. On the thirteenth attempt, she manages to stay submerged, and Jess tries to reassure her with a squeeze of her hand as they watch each other underwater.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s weird, not being able to talk. The plastic in her mouth is an uncomfortable reminder that it’s the only thing preventing her from drowning. All Yaz can hear is the sound of her own breathing and it’s terrifying. But Jess is watching her, communicating with her using her eyes. They’re expressive, and distracting enough that Yaz realises they are starting to sink slowly and calmly. She clears her ears as Jess had taught her to do, and when she sees Amy and Rory she looks up, startled to realise that they are now several metres under the surface. The water is crystal clear and so warm that she feels like she’s in a giant bath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz pushes aside the part of her brain that wants to escape, to focus on the fact that she is breathing underwater. Instead, she zones in on the feel of Jess’s hand in her own. She doesn’t let go. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“What did you think?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’s voice emerges from the hatch and she steps up onto the open roof-top deck bearing a plate of pineapple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought you could do with some sugar, I know I could. They don’t sell custard creams on this island but this is the next best thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz gratefully takes a slice, letting the fruit refresh her parched throat. She’d swallowed more sea water than she cared to think about. She tugs her towel more closely around herself, feeling self-conscious as Jess plonks herself next to her on the roof, half-dressed and without an apparent care in the world. Her hair has started to curl as it dries but it still drips slightly onto her bikini top and Yaz has to make a conscious effort not to watch the drops as they fall. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What is wrong with her today? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She picks up another slice, chewing thoughtfully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amazing,” she finally responds, making sure to keep her eyes above chest level. Jess beams at her, her face scrunching up in unencumbered delight. The laughter lines around her eyes suit her, Yaz thinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew you’d like it,” Jess says, and Yaz wonders if she takes it personally when people don’t.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The visibility was pretty good down there, we were lucky! And you did so well, Yaz. I’m proud of you. You stuck with it and you got to dive.” Jess nudges her with her shoulder and Yaz is surprised to feel how bony it is as it bumps her own. A drip lands on Jess’s collarbone and starts to trickle south and Yaz makes a determined effort to ignore it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did,” Yaz smiles, letting it sink in. She had faced her fears and overcome them. “I wasn’t sure I could, but I don’t think I could have done it without you,” she admits. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense,” Jess disagrees. “It was all you. Letting go of that fear and being brave, I had nothing to do with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz laughs, the sound surprisingly bitter, and Jess frowns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sound like you don’t believe me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz wipes her sticky fingers on the edge of her towel as she decides how truthful to be. Adrenaline is still coursing through her veins, making her bold, and her mind is all over the place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t say that if you knew why I was here,” she starts, risking a glance sideways. Jess is watching her with bated breath. It’s the first time Yaz has seen her go quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s the sound of the boat engine and waves breaking against the sides of the vessel but otherwise, it’s quiet. Even Amy and Rory are barely audible down below. Yaz can feel the heat of the sun on her skin and wonders if she should have put sunscreen on, but it’s too late to worry about that now. She throws caution to the wind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was an incident. At work. I...I took some time off, to try and get myself back on track.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the first time she’s admitted it aloud and she’s not sure what reaction she expects, but when Jess instantly shifts closer and wraps an arm around her shoulders, Yaz realises it’s exactly what she needed. Even through the material of her towel she can feel the comforting solidity of Jess’s body as it moulds to her side, pulling her close. It’s been a long time since she’s let anyone touch her like this and Yaz realises that she’s very much missed simple human contact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess doesn’t say anything and they sit for a few minutes, watching the horizon together. Eventually, though, she speaks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever happened, Yaz, please be kind to yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz shrugs without thinking and Jess removes her arm quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Yaz. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz shakes her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that. It’s just...hard, you know?” she finishes, lamely. “I just need to figure some things out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Including why she’s suddenly so uncertain of herself when she’s around the woman next to her.  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>On the second dive, and to her great surprise, Yaz descends more easily. Subsequently, there is no need for Jess to hold her hand and she is both disappointed and relieved. It was reassuring to know that Jess was so close but Yaz is a grown woman and she hates to be scared. It’s a sign of weakness. The sound of her own breathing so loud in her ears takes some getting used to, but Yaz is eventually distracted by the sheer number of fish surrounding her. They glide by her as if she’s not even there, simply going about their business without a care in the world. They come in all shapes, sizes, and colours, and Yaz is soothed by their presence. Perhaps fish tanks in dentists’ waiting rooms really do work, she muses, and her attention is captured by the fish so completely that she finally forgets the scary part about what she’s doing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She also forgets to moderate her buoyancy and drifts so close to the rocks that she doesn’t notice in quite enough time to correct herself. She winces, expecting to feel stone bash into her legs, and is surprised to brush against something soft, instead. Seconds later, a sharp stinging sensation wraps around her thigh and she looks down, panicked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although she’d managed to avoid crushing it, she’s swum up against a sea anemone; next to it are several urchins and Yaz hopes that she didn’t touch one of them, but her leg is stinging and painful. As she takes several gulps of air to raise herself and move away from the rocks, as Jess had taught her, she cautiously runs a hand over the skin of her thigh. She can feel something silky smooth on her skin and she brushes it off; the skin seems to be intact, at least, but the shock of pain is surprising and Yaz is glad they’re on their way to a safety stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they wait to ascend, the four of them hold onto the rope by the boat and Jess checks her divers are all ok. But when she gets to Yaz, she frowns when Yaz indicates something is not right with her leg. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz holds tightly onto the rope as Jess runs a hand across the skin of her thigh under the water, checking for any obvious problems and finding none. After checking her watch, Jess gives Yaz a thumbs up to ascend, encouraging the others to do the same. When they emerge by the boat, Yaz spits out her regulator and breathes in great gulps of air, inflating her BCD so she can stop treading water quite so much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess is there mere moments later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yaz? What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My leg touched something...squishy, on the rock. It stings,” she gasps, and she feels silly the moment she says it because Jess obviously realises what’s happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An anemone? Yeah, they can hurt quite a bit. Guys,” she calls to Amy and Rory, “I’m just going to sort Yaz out, okay? Can you follow us up onto the boat?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others nod. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay, Yaz?” Amy calls out, and Yaz once again feels daft. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, just clumsy,” she responds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Jess reassures her. “These things happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment they’re back on the boat, Jess guides her to the bench and helps her remove her BCD and tank, before scrutinising the injury. Yaz can’t see anything on the skin other than the faintest traces of the sting, but she can certainly feel it, and she winces as the pain makes itself known once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You might need to take the suit off,” Jess comments, finally. “Or if you prefer, you can roll it up? But it might be uncomfortable, they can get a bit restrictive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Yaz had been hoping to avoid this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How come?” she asks, mentally debating what to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want to make sure you’ve not got any spines stuck in there, they can get through suits this thin. And if I can wash the stinging cells off it’ll help with the pain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s crouched down by Yaz’s knees, looking carefully at her leg. The mention of spines makes Yaz shudder and she realises she’s going to have to bite the bullet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, let me just….”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She trails off, getting to her feet and tugging at the zip at the back of her wetsuit. As she does so, the boat rocks gently and she stumbles, struggling with the stubborn material. After a moment Jess helps her, cautiously easing the wetsuit over her leg. The proximity makes Yaz feel a little overwhelmed and she’s relieved when Jess returns to her previous position almost immediately because having her so close puts her on edge. It also feels strange to sit half naked in front of this woman she barely knows, but Jess’s attention is so completely focused elsewhere that Yaz forces herself to relax. Amy and Rory give her a wave as they come back aboard and proceed to help each other deposit their tanks, chatting quietly between themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz’s attention is drawn by the feel of careful hands  holding her leg and she inhales sharply. The touch is almost clinical but she can’t help but be taken aback at how intimate it feels to have Jess’s hands touching the skin of her inner thigh. It’s been a long time since anybody has touched her there and for that person to be another woman feels strange. She realises, belatedly, that Jess has seen the scar on her leg because her thumb has started to trace it, as if she’s memorising it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yaz, that looks like it was serious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz nods, grateful that Jess hasn’t asked what actually happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That incident at work.” It’s all she feels comfortable saying, especially with an audience. She swears she can feel Amy watching them, but she can’t tear her eyes away from the woman kneeling at her feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m glad you’re alright,” Jess finally says, her lips drawn into a thin line. The size and location of the jagged mark probably make it fairly obvious that she’d nearly died. Yaz hates to look at it and the skin still feels vulnerable, like it’s too fresh. Perhaps that’s why it tingles where Jess touches it. But Jess’s expression also does something to Yaz’s insides, and she shifts, suddenly feeling warm under the scrutiny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any problems with your breathing?” Jess asks, noticing her discomfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Yeah, I’m fine, why?” Yaz blurts. She feels like she’s been caught out because it’s becoming harder to function when Jess is this close, and she’s been consciously holding her breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some people have an allergic reaction to stings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. No, nothing like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. Bear with me and I’ll get some soap and water.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a brief squeeze of her sting-free leg and Jess is gone. Yaz feels herself slump slightly, and is shocked to realise that she’d been holding her body so tensely. It makes no sense, really, and Yaz just chalks it up to being in pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the tension returns in an instant when the other woman returns with a bucket of fresh water and starts to bathe her leg thoroughly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me know if this hurts,” Jess murmurs, but she’s so gentle that Yaz can barely feel the pain anymore. Jess is also so thorough that she’s only just finished with her task when the boat pulls in and anchors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re back already?” Jess asks, jerking her head up in surprise. Yaz feels the loss of contact immediately, but then there’s a hand helping her to her feet and passing Yaz her clothes. Jess also hands Yaz her own hoodie, insisting that she keep warm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Yaz pulls it over her head, her senses are filled. The material is fluffy and soft and smells like Jess and although Yaz had debated borrowing the thin jumper, she's now very glad that she did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell you what, you can skip washing up your gear today. My treat,” Jess winks, and Yaz is amazed she makes it onto the longtail without incident. Her legs feel wobbly and they weaken when Jess helps guide her onto the smaller boat, insisting that she take it easy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Amy asks, easing herself onto the bench next to Yaz once the gear is on board. “That looked like it hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More embarrassing than anything,” Yaz admits, still trying to mentally process what had just happened. She watches, her mouth growing dry, as Jess helps load the tanks onto the boat. Her arms are much stronger than Yaz had realised, which she can appreciate given how many fitness tests she’d had to do as part of her police training. Jess lifts the tanks like they’re as light as the air they contain, but now that she’s carried one on her back, Yaz knows they are surprisingly heavy. Despite the strenuous nature of the task, Jess has a smile on her face, chatting with the crew and casting more than the occasional glance at Yaz. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-was it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz realises she’s been staring. Apparently, Amy does, too, because she nudges Yaz with her elbow and laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seen something interesting? Or should I say...someone?” Amy nods her head in the direction of Jess and Yaz feels like she’s swallowed lead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?! No way,” she protests, loudly. So loudly that there’s a clang as Jess almost drops a tank, distracted by the sudden outburst. Amy is taken aback and Yaz winces at her lack of volume control. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a bit tired, I guess,” she murmurs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you say so,” Amy says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do, yeah," Yaz snaps, instantly on the defensive. She wishes she could take the words back when she sees a flash of hurt pass across Amy’s face, but what she’d implied was simply wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Yaz mutters, but it’s too late. The damage has been done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amy smiles faintly and turns to talk to Rory instead, leaving Yaz feeling absolutely mortified at her outburst. When Jess sits next to her for the journey back, Yaz shifts so that their legs aren’t at risk of touching. The other woman doesn’t seem to notice and continues her conversation with the driver without interruption. Yaz is relieved to retreat behind the walls she’s so fond of throwing up at the slightest sign of vulnerability. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess shoos her away when they get back to the dive shop, insisting that she’ll take care of her gear and that she can make up for it tomorrow. Seeing her chance to escape to the safety of her room, Yaz waves a timid farewell to the others, already sensing that Amy is less than impressed with her. But Yaz doesn’t care. She needs a bit of space to try and digest what just happened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Graham is nowhere to be seen when she walks through the bar and she’s glad. All she wants to do is shower the salt out of her hair and have a long, long nap. It’s only 1pm but she’s utterly exhausted, drained from the nerves of diving and from the pain that’s still throbbing along her leg. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as soon as she’s showered the sea from her hair and thoroughly scrubbed the salt from her skin, Yaz is wide awake. Her brain will not stop going over and over the same thoughts, thoughts that she’d rather not consider right about now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slides between the cool sheets of her bed, wondering if she should try and read to relax. Then, she remembers that she didn’t reply to Clara. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Well?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz winces when she unlocks her phone, realising that Clara had seen the two blue ticks that indicated her first message had been read. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz realises this is the second time in the past hour that she’s had to apologise to someone. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I should think so, Yaz. Leaving me waiting like that. So, why did you end up down there? Was my sparkling conversation not enough to keep you in Bangkok? Or did Ryan convince you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz rolls her eyes, wondering how many girls Ryan has done this to. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe…but you know what, he was right. It’s beautiful.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz looks out of the window to confirm that she is, indeed, in paradise. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ended up diving.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz patiently awaits Clara’s opinion of her life choices. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Anyone interesting down there?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz scoffs. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Have you got a one track mind?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Clara’s response arrives immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I've been single for so long that I've retired and now live vicariously through others. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, well, I’ve been too busy looking at fish to notice anyone. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Who are you diving with then?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A couple of newlyweds, Amy and Rory, and someone called Jess. She’s teaching us. You’d probably like her, actually. She has a rainbow bikini and everything.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a longer pause this time but Clara’s response, when it finally arrives, triggers something unexpected.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm coming out of retirement. Is she good looking?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The sudden image of Jess - a woman she barely knows whom Yaz has assumed to be gay, or at the very least, not straight - with Clara makes Yaz feel awkward. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll take that silence as a yes. Have you short-circuited over there? Is she that stunning?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I was just buying a drink</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Yaz lies. She types the rest of her message without giving it much thought, mainly because Clara is so impatient that Yaz knows she’ll demand an answer before too long.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah she's pretty, I suppose. She's blonde and really strong, those tanks are heavy but she lifts them like they weigh nothing!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She sounds like a catch. Maybe I should change my plans and come down there…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz’s gut response is to say no, which surprises her. She likes Clara, and would love to hang out with her again. They got on well. But there’s something else percolating away that Yaz doesn’t want to inspect too closely. She feels protective over Jess, but she has no idea why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shakes her head, chalking her train of thought up to a mentally taxing day. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yaz? Where did you go?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry, just about to grab some lunch. I’ll catch you later? :)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz doesn’t wait for a response, knowing she’ll just be drawn into another discussion. Clara is nothing if not persistent and right now, Yaz just wants to switch off. Not having a routine or a job to worry about is giving her far too much time to think, but she doesn’t want or need that, she wants the opposite. Yaz shoves the phone under her pillow, willing sleep to come instead. At least when she sleeps she can escape her thoughts for just a little while. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When sleep does come, she dreams of fish, the sea, and Jess.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Yaz is relieved that her dreams aren’t as agonised as they usually are. Fish are far nicer to visualise than blood and hospitals, and even though she’s surprised that her divemaster made a starring appearance, Yaz rationalises that it’s because they spent so much time together that morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of the sea is what wakes her, and it takes Yaz a moment to recall where she is. It’s still light out, thankfully, and she spies the time on her phone amidst several messages from Clara. She’s only slept for an hour or so but it’s enough to make her feel more human, and Yaz stretches luxuriously, spreading her arms and legs across the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, it’s nice to have the whole thing to herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But eventually, Yaz gets bored of the quiet. She doesn’t like to be left alone with her thoughts for too long because they start to turn to things she’s not yet ready to consider too closely. It’s part of the reason she left home, after all: to get out, see the world, and forget about why she’s running away in the first place. The balcony beckons and she heads out to check how her clothes are drying. Even in the humid air the heat of the sun is strong enough to have dried most of her swimwear already, and she’s adjusting it so that the damper patches are exposed to the sunshine when she hears the sound of singing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s quiet at first, soft. But the person singing can clearly hold a tune and although Yaz can’t quite place it, it sounds familiar enough that she stops to listen. It sounds like it’s coming from next door and Yaz looks down to see the back of Jess’s dive shop, which opens up onto the beach. They’d left through there earlier, she recalls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few moments Jess herself appears, hefting a BCD upside down and squeezing water out of it. She sings as she does so, unaware that she has an audience, and Yaz is struck by how relaxed she seems. Yaz is pretty sure Jess is sunshine in human form, and the thought makes her smile. She’s more certain than ever that she made the right decision in coming here; meeting someone like Jess just confirms it. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>The next day, Jess breaks the bad news to her learner divers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, gang. Today’s the day we get to practice our skills underwater.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She has her hands on her hips, which are thrust out just slightly as she beams at her charges. She looks so chuffed that Yaz almost skips over what she’s just said. Thankfully, Rory has the presence of mind to ask what she’s actually talking about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had a feeling you might ask,” Jess grins. “And you’ve actually done quite a few of them already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She holds up a hand and starts ticking them off on her fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know how to clear your mask,” she starts, and Yaz recalls learning to do that for the first time yesterday. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can tread water, put on your BCD and adjust it, descend, tell me how much air you have left, and respond to my hand signals.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz is surprised to realise that they’ve learned quite a lot already. But it makes her wonder what’s to come. Jess seems to read her mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There aren’t many left, really. Today, we’re going to practice recovering your regulator from behind your shoulder and remove your mask underwater.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rory groans at the last one and Yaz sympathises entirely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remove it? You mean take it off? Underwater?” Amy asks, and Yaz notes that she seems uncharacteristically nervous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise, it’s not as bad as it sounds. I would recommend making sure any long hair is tied tightly though, you don’t want the strap to snag.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz and Amy instantly re-tie their hair and Jess stifles a smile when Rory pats the back of his own head without thinking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be alright, guys. You’re my little gang of divers and I guarantee that nothing bad will happen. It’s only for a few seconds,” she says, winking at Yaz. Yaz almost forgets what they were discussing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the way to the dive site, Jess keeps them chatting, clearly trying to put them at ease. The moment they’re in the water, Yaz is more accepting of what’s about to happen. It’s only for a few seconds, and she knows Jess will be there. They sink to the sea floor - it’s a shallow site - and kneel in a circle, waiting for Jess to demonstrate what they need to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Removing her regulator and letting it float behind her is terrifying, but Jess is kneeling next to her and Yaz knows she’s safe. She manages to retrieve it without issue, clearing it when she puts it back in her mouth and taking a very relieved gulp of air. It helps that she gets to go first and get it out of the way because Rory struggles to retrieve his, and it’s mildly alarming to watch him flap around for it. But Jess stays calm, moving to guide his hand to the tubing and watching carefully as he clears it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is so calm that Yaz finds the next step far less terrifying than it should be. Jess takes off her mask, holding it out to one side as she blinks underwater. Then, after a moment, she puts it back on and clears it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. She turns to Yaz, bubbles rising between them as they kneel on the sea bed. Yaz takes a breath and removes her mask without a second thought, feeling the salt sting her eyes the moment she does so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s uncomfortable and she tamps down the surge of panic that almost forces her upwards. She can see the vague shape of Jess next to her, cool as a cucumber, and that keeps her grounded as she struggles to see. But she can see Jess nod, signifying that she can put her mask back on, and Yaz shoves it back on as quickly as she can, clearing it. Her eyes sting but she can still see the smile in Jess’s eyes as she asks if she’s ok with a hand gesture. Yaz responds in kind and relaxes as the others follow her lead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment they’re finished, they’re joined by something Yaz had never expected to see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess grabs her arm and points, and Yaz can just about see the shape of something drifting towards them. It’s not that big, thankfully, or she’d be panicking about what was heading straight to them; thankfully, it’s nothing remotely scary. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a turtle, drifting by and watching them through heavy-lidded eyes. Its shell is marked and covered in green algae or some kind of moss, and it looks ancient. Yaz feels awed to be in its presence, humbled, in fact. The fact that Jess seems just as excited to see it serves to amplify her own excitement and Yaz accidentally gives a thumbs up, the signal that she wants to ascend. But Jess knows that she doesn’t want to leave and grabs her hand, conveying her understanding through a gentle squeeze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The four of them watch as their visitor drifts past slowly, en route to lunch, perhaps, or a deeper part of the ocean. The moment, although relatively brief, is pure magic. The instant they surface, Yaz is bursting with new-found energy. She laughs as soon as she can breathe above the water, squinting in the sunshine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Amy whoops, delighted. “I can’t believe it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never had a turtle interrupt a skills lesson,” Jess grins, starting the slow paddle back to the boat. “Must be a good omen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz laughs again, in disbelief. Not even a week ago she was in rainy London, counting down the days until she could leave. Wishing her life away. Now, every moment is precious, and she feels like Jess has a large part to play in that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So much so that when they get back on board and dump their gear, Yaz starts to rummage in her bag for her phone, wetsuit half-off and hanging from her waist. The others have adopted a similar look and Yaz muses that they all look like fully fledged divers, now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, guys. Group photo, to celebrate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’s face lights up at the prospect and Amy’s does, too, and they huddle together while the captain takes their picture. Jess and Amy are pressed either side of her and Yaz is careless, letting her hands hold onto their sides as they squeeze in for a picture, Rory on the other side of Amy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amy insists on checking the photo, giving it a seal of approval before she moves away to sort out her belongings and get dry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess is slower to move away and Yaz realises that she wants another picture. Just the two of them, to commemorate the occasion and to convey her gratitude to Jess for holding true to her promises. She had shown Yaz things that she really would remember for the rest of her life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you mind…?” Yaz asks, trailing off and hoping the implied question is obvious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not,” Jess agrees, smiling softly as Yaz returns to her side. This time, she slips an arm around Yaz’s waist as Yaz holds up the phone, trying to find a flattering angle. Jess is photogenic, that much is obvious, so it doesn’t take long; but Yaz still dithers as she takes a few different pictures, making sure there’s at least one good one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” she murmurs, almost reluctant for the impromptu photoshoot to end, and Jess gives her bare side a gentle squeeze. It feels like she leaves molten lava in her wake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any time."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay! Just needed a little time out and then the world really went to shit, and I thought it was best to focus on other voices for a bit. But it's also been an awful week and I know that reading/writing fic can be a comfort so I'm resuming my posting schedule, thanks for bearing with me &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yaz’s thumb hovers over the symbol on the screen. She’s not uploaded any pictures, yet, and wonders if this is a good one to start with; a selfie of her and Jess, grinning at the camera like loons. Her sister will ask what she’s been up to, of course, but her mum won’t see it at least. Yaz has yet to accept her friend request. In the background, Yaz can see the tanks and the back of Amy’s head, but the main focus of the picture is the two people in the foreground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They look good together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she can reconsider, Yaz presses down and the picture is posted for her friends and selected family members to see. Half of them don’t even know she’s left London, or why she’s taken a leave of absence, and Yaz knows that this picture will prompt questions. She hides her phone away. A problem for another time. Right now, she has to tidy up the pile of gear she’s lugged off the boat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well done!” Jess is saying, supervising her group as they rinse and hang up their equipment. “You’ve done all of your dives, now. All that remains is the theory test and I have a feeling you’ll breeze through it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate tests,” Amy grumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love a test,” Rory quips, and Yaz can tell that he’s serious. “I’ll help you study!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Amy accedes. “But only if you buy me lunch, first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a wave, they leave Yaz and Jess to finish up. There is a comfortable silence as they complete their tasks, working side by side. Jess eventually breaks it, as Yaz thought she might; she seems to be incapable of staying quiet for long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was there anything you wanted to go over, Yaz? Anything that isn’t clear that might be helpful to discuss before tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deep down, Yaz knows she’s learned what she needs to know inside out. She learns fast and remembers things well, so she feels well equipped for tomorrow’s test. But something about Jess’s question and the way she asks it makes her hesitate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose...I dunno, really. Is there anything you would suggest we go over?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that your way of asking what questions are going to come up?” Jess’s eyes widen at the implication. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear, I’m not a cheat.” Yaz laughs at her expression, hands raised as if to protest her innocence. “But if you’re offering to talk me through things, I wouldn’t say no."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Where has this come from? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yaz doesn’t need help, and she’s never asked for it. But she feels like she can’t say no to this woman. And when a smile lights up Jess’s face, Yaz knows she never wants to disappoint her, either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amazing. Brilliant, Yaz. How about we meet a little later? Say…” Jess looks at her watch. “Seven? I have to take out another group this afternoon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz nods, grateful for the chance to shower and eat. But it doesn’t look like Jess will get the chance, and Yaz is struck by the fact that she doesn’t seem to get a moment’s rest. Personally, she’s exhausted, and she wonders how Jess does it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you ever stop?” Yaz asks from the doorway. “I’m starting to wonder if you’re running on those batteries that never run out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess laughs, waving her away. “No, I never stop. I like to keep myself busy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz can sympathise. “I think I know what you mean,” she murmurs. But there’ll be time to talk later. Jess is already opening up her computer, mind apparently elsewhere. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Before you go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess scribbles something on a scrap of paper and hands it to Yaz before she leaves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My number. Just in case anything comes up. Or you think of something before we meet up later. You never know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz bites back a smile as she retrieves the paper, slipping it into her shorts pocket carefully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. But I’ll see you at seven...ish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That you will.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>When Yaz steps out of the shower, not half an hour later, she’s surprised to see that the weather has turned. The white, fluffy clouds have been replaced by grey, ominous ones, and fat splats of rain have started to hit her windows. After a second, she realises her clothes are meant to be drying outside and she dashes out in her towel to bring them in. Down below, she can see that the longtail boat is being loaded up, which means Jess will be heading out shortly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz frowns. Perhaps it’s safe to dive in the rain. The sea looks calm, certainly, but the speed with which the weather has changed makes her wonder if it’ll get worse. But when she sees Jess emerge, nattering away to another group of divers, her cheerful demeanour puts Yaz at ease. They wouldn’t dive if it wasn’t safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess turns and looks up, and Yaz realises she’s standing on her balcony in her towel, staring. She ducks back inside, clothes haphazardly folded in her arms, and hopes that she hasn’t been spotted. She listens for the distinctive sound of the longtail boat engine starting up and after a few moments it does, eventually fading away as it bears its precious cargo out to sea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz opts to stay indoors and eat her lunch downstairs, where she can look out to sea and watch the weather as it unleashes itself on the tiny island. The sound of the rain hitting palm tree leaves is a new one, and Yaz is content to stay put and absorb the power of nature on her doorstep. Graham, on the other hand, is preoccupied with a West Ham game that isn’t quite going to plan, if his muffled curses are anything to go by. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She loses track of time to the degree that she’s shocked to see Jess’s dive boat returning. A quick look at her phone shows her 37 instagram notifications and indicates that three hours have passed. Three whole hours of staying put. Yaz wonders what’s happened. She’s never just...done nothing, before. She realises she actually quite likes it. An added bonus is that she can watch, unobserved, as Jess steps off the longtail. Despite her cheery grin, she looks tired; Yaz can see it from where she’s sitting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The observation actually prompts her to move, startling Graham, who had apparently forgotten she was there. The bar is otherwise deserted, punters apparently put off by the bad weather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! God, love, you gave me a heart attack.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz apologises profusely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They really go out in all weather?” she asks, nodding towards the returning divers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Graham nods. “Nutters, the lot of them. Especially the Doc. She’ll go out in rain or shine, twice a day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow. Just once is enough for me, I think. It’s exhausting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s why she does it,” Graham muses. “She loves it, of course, but...I think there’s something more to it. An escape, of a sort. Anyway, look at me go. West Ham losing just makes me all philosophical. Can I get you anything else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz shakes her head. “No thanks. But maybe I can convince Jess to come over. I don’t think she’s had lunch yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Graham sighs. “That wouldn’t surprise me. Good luck, love. She can be very stubborn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz files that bit of information away for future reference as she ducks outside, running to the dive shop next door. Sure enough, Jess is there, overseeing organised chaos. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yaz! What are you doing here?” she asks, clearly surprised to see her again so soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you might want to meet earlier. So that you can actually have some lunch,” Yaz says, trying to inject some firmness into her tone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine, I had some snacks on the boat,” Jess says distractedly, before pointing a client in the direction of the wetsuit rack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about a shower, then? It’s miserable out, and there’s a nice warm one right next door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess pauses, clearly taken by the idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? You wouldn’t mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz shakes her head. “I wouldn’t offer if I did.” Secretly, she is overjoyed that she’s managed to somehow overcome the stubbornness that Graham had mentioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gold star for you, Yaz,” Jess grins. “I hate driving in the rain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having seen how precarious Jess is on her bike, Yaz is also relieved that she’d agreed to the suggestion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except Yaz soon realises she hasn’t thought this plan through. It’s still so wet outside that she can’t wait on the balcony for Jess to finish showering, and the bathroom - although big - is not quite big enough to get changed in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D’you mind if I get changed out here?” Jess asks, emerging from a very steamy bathroom wrapped in a towel that only barely covers her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! No, of course not,” Yaz mumbles, quickly turning so that she’s sitting facing the other direction. But this means she’s facing the sliding doors, and they’re reflective enough that she can see the moment that Jess drops her towel. Yaz slams her eyes shut, trying to erase the visual. Just a naked woman. She's seen plenty before, in the gym changing room, in the locker room at work, and she's seen her own body. There’s nothing new or surprising to see. But it feels somehow wrong to even think about Jess naked, so she starts to think about other things. Anything but the woman standing nude behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks a million, Yaz. I really should get the shower fixed in the shop but I’ve just never quite got round to it. Last time I had a go myself and I made it worse and now we don’t get any warm water at all,” Jess says, and Yaz can hear the sound of clothing being pulled on. She tries not to imagine it, and is unsure why she’s suddenly so on edge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem,” Yaz mumbles, eyes still closed in concentration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Normally it’s bearable because the sea is so warm but on days like today...brr.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A smile tugs at her lips when she hears Jess exaggerate a shiver. There’s no more conversation for a while, and then the bed dips behind her at the same moment that a warm hand comes to rest on her shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can open them,” Jess murmurs, and Yaz lets out a breath as her eyes fly open. She twists her head to look behind her and is relieved to see that the other woman is fully clothed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I just...wanted to give you some privacy,” Yaz rushes to explain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I appreciate it,” Jess smiles. “Now, while we’re here...did you want to discuss anything before tomorrow?”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“No!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I swear! He just...jumped in with the weight belt on. No tank.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz can’t believe that anybody could be so stupid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thankfully, somebody noticed and they pulled him out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The story itself is shocking but Yaz can’t help but laugh at the way Jess tells it so enthusiastically, re-enacting the moment the novice diver was pulled back above the water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was raging, too!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” Yaz groans. “How can people be so dumb?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess shakes her head. “People just get excited, I think. Or they don’t stop to think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Yaz agrees, taking a sip of her smoothie. They’ve moved downstairs to Graham’s bar, and after a bit of banter about her eating habits, Graham has left Jess to teach her student the finer points of diving before tomorrow’s test. At random intervals he insists on bringing them plates of food - which Jess initially refuses but gradually starts to eat as the afternoon wears on into the evening, and much to Graham’s delight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They haven’t discussed the upcoming test at all; they’ve been talking about anything but tomorrow’s test. Instead, Yaz has been getting to know her divemaster, little by little. For someone so gregarious, Jess certainly plays her cards close to her chest. Only once, when Yaz briefly mentions London, does Jess get a bit of a wistful look in her eye, but she moves the conversation on so effectively that Yaz is reluctant to prod her about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t feel quite so daft for getting myself stung on the second dive, now,” Yaz says, leaning back into the cushions behind her. They’ve managed to snag a quiet corner of the bar, and it feels like they’re in their very own bubble, cut off from the world. The tension that Yaz had been carrying since the shower incident has finally left her body and she feels thoroughly at ease in Jess’s presence, disarmed by her charm and humour. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah yes, the sting! I take it it’s not bothering you anymore?” Jess asks, eyes drifting towards Yaz’s leg. Her shorts are knee-length, though, so the skin is hidden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problems,” Yaz confirms. There’s an awkward pause as Jess clearly decides whether to address the elephant in the room. To Yaz’s great surprise, she opens her mouth and starts to speak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That scar. It was serious, you were right,” she starts, gathering her thoughts. Jess leans in, bracing herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those stab vests they give you at work don’t really cover very much. And coppers are fair game. The guy got me in the leg, just once but deep enough that I nearly bled out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess closes her eyes briefly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Yaz. Only idiots carry knives. What happened?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was chasing his mate. They’d just been driving past on mopeds, nicking phones from pedestrians, really petty theft, you know? I didn’t think. Tackled him when he parked but he was quick and I could feel something wasn’t right when he pushed me off. Only, I didn’t realise straight away what had happened.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess nods. “That can happen with injuries like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz wonders how Jess knows so much about stab wounds. Combined with the way she had treated her sting, it’s clear she has some kind of first aid knowledge, but stab wounds...stab wounds are another thing entirely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you alone?” Jess continues, gaze soft as she teases more of the story out of Yaz. She’s a good listener, sympathetic and non-judgmental, and it makes it even easier for Yaz to open up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, thankfully. My partner got me out of there as quickly as he could. If he hadn’t, I would probably have died. That’s what the doctors said, anyway,” she shrugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz hasn’t told that story much, and it doesn’t seem to get any easier with practice. She can feel tears start to prick at her eyes, stinging them almost as badly as the sea water that morning, and she impatiently brushes them away. She feels rather than sees Jess move, joining her on the sofa she’s sitting on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re alright, Yaz. You survived, and look at you now, hey?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’s voice is low and warm, and Yaz can’t help but lean into her as they fall into one another instinctively. Her body is solid and warm and </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Yaz lets her walls crumble a little as she tries to steady her breaths. She gradually realises that one of Jess’s hands is rubbing a soothing pattern onto her back and it helps immeasurably. Her breathing calms as she absorbs the comfort, hearing Jess murmur nonsense in her ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, you must think I’m such an idiot,” Yaz sniffs, finally detaching herself from the other woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never, Yaz.” Jess’s sounds almost argumentative. “I would never think that about anybody who’s been through something like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz sighs, wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks. “I think it’s just been a bit of a long day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess bites her lip and nods in agreement. “Yeah, I imagine you’re pretty exhausted. Those first few dives can be tiring to say the least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can say that again,” Yaz laughs lightly. “I don’t know about you, but I could do with some sleep,” she admits, shocked when she sees the time on the TV hanging behind the bar. 10pm. The evening has passed in the blink of an eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luckily for me, I don’t need much,” Jess smiles, jumping to her feet. Yaz rises more slowly, feeling the ache in her bones from sitting in one place for too long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, I’ll walk you home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess holds out an arm and Yaz laughs, looping her own through it as they head upstairs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I could get there myself?” Yaz affirms, wondering if this is Jess’s way of making her laugh after such a tearful confession. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. But I just want to make sure you get there safely,” Jess says as they approach Yaz’s room. Yaz removes her arm to fish for her keys and they hover there for a moment. Yaz is trying to figure out how to say goodbye but Jess does it, instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leans in and brushes a soft kiss against Yaz’s cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz can feel the skin grow warm where Jess had touched it. Her perfume lingers and Yaz lets herself breathe it in for a moment. It smells fresh, like the sea, and equally mysterious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see you tomorrow, Yaz, when you’re going to smash that test!” Jess says, and with that she’s gone, already halfway down the corridor before Yaz truly registers her absence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shakes her head as she opens the door to her room, brushing the moment off as something that close friends might do. It certainly feels like they’ve grown closer over the course of the past few hours. After getting ready for bed, Yaz digs out her phone to set an alarm for the morning and clears the notifications, opting only to read Clara’s message, for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So...how are things going with your instructor?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz wonders what’s prompted this line of questioning and asks as much.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How do you mean?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You guys are hanging out a lot right? </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not really…well, we hung out tonight, actually.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>My gaydar is pinging from here. That picture of you two on Instagram was a nice surprise ;)</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz sighs, wishing she had listened to the more logical side of her brain that told her not to respond to Clara’s bait. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jess takes lots of pictures like that. There are hundreds all over her shop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I bet none look as good as that one, Yaz. Just saying...you'd make a cute couple.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz almost drops her phone. Yes, the photo was a good one, but she didn’t think of Jess like that and she was starting to get annoyed with people insisting that she might. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Clara…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What? </span>
  </em>
  <span>An angel emoji does the trick and Yaz laughs. She can’t stay angry with Clara for long.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just guys, remember? Why don’t you come down here and find out for yourself what she’s like. I’m sure you’d get on. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz tries to ignore how difficult it is for her to even suggest the idea and shoves her phone back under her pillow, willing her brain to switch off so that she can actually get some sleep.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>“Ewwww! Khan likes girls!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Izzy Flint is pointing at her and laughing. Behind her, several of their classmates are gathered. It’s June, and Yaz has been spending her lunch breaks in recent weeks on the playing field with her best friend, Rose. Yaz enjoys spending time with Rose and Rose alone. She has hair like the sun and her smile makes Yaz feel warm inside. They hang outside a lot in this weather; mostly, they make daisy chains or chat about which member of their favourite boy band they’d most like to kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don't talk about the one time they'd practiced kissing with each other. Yaz tries not to think about it but she can't quite help the way the memory creeps up on her like an unwelcome guest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You two,” Izzy gestures between them. “You spend all your time together. You’re girlfriends. Say it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not,” Yaz says, getting to her feet protectively. She can sense Rose standing up behind her, coming to her defence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if we were, who cares?” Rose asks, and Yaz feels her jaw drop. She turns, shocked, to look at her friend, who shrugs. “It’s true, Yaz.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not,” Yaz replies instantly. She remembers the comments her mum had made about one of their neighbours, an elderly gay man who lived alone. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s had such a sad life, having to hide who he is. I feel sorry for him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz doesn’t want to be like that. She doesn’t want to be scared, she wants to be brave. It’s just that...she doesn’t quite know who she is, not yet. And figuring it out would be frightening, which she doesn’t feel equipped to handle. It’s much easier to embrace the parts she understands. The rest will come later, she's certain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Izzy Flint has touched a nerve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piss off, yeah?” Yaz says, cheeks burning with embarrassment, except she’s so riled up that her fists are clenching by her sides and Izzy spots them instantly. She smiles, wickedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah? What if I don’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been the only fight of her school career, but her dad’s reaction was enough to stop her from throwing a punch again. That brief moment of victory had been sweet, but the experience had left a bitter taste in her mouth, not least because her friendship with Rose had never been the same. When her mum had asked what prompted the fight, she couldn’t bear to tell her, worried that even the suggestion of her liking Rose as more than a friend would prompt an awkward discussion that she’d rather avoid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Afterwards, Yaz had reasoned that she’d done the right thing. Even if just to get through school, it was much easier to try and fit in. Focus on what she wanted to do with her life and rely on herself for happiness until she could get out into the world on her own and be independent. Because other people were unreliable, and they could be cruel. She had to be the source of her own success in life and it would be what she made of it, nobody else. Except now that she’s out in the world, things haven’t changed. She’s still trying to fit into the life she's created for herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz feels the cool sheets next to her and wonders if she’s made the right choice.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Escapism at its finest. Apologies in advance for a) the shorter chapter and b) its contents!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As predicted, Yaz aces the theory test. In fact, she's so quick at completing it that Jess does a double take when she sees that she's finished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're done? Already?" Jess puts down her mug of coffee and extends her hand to retrieve the completed test.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yep. That wasn't too bad."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"True, but I've never known anyone to finish so quickly," Jess murmurs as she reads over the answers. A smile grows on her face as she works through the sheet of paper, clearly impressed. Yaz makes a conscious effort not to look smug. She just happens to learn quickly and be good at taking tests, which is what she tells Jess when she informs her she got full marks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't be daft," Jess replies. "You smashed it! Well done, Yaz. You passed!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Yaz even registers what's happening, Jess has pulled her into a hug. It's brief, but just long enough for Yaz to feel sad when it ends. Jess is a good hugger, apparently, because Yaz feels like she’s been warmed from the inside out when she pulls away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Done!" Rory chips in as they separate. He's waving a piece of paper, trailed by Amy, who looks distinctly less impressed as she hands over her paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it transpires that Rory got a couple of answers wrong, he asks Jess for feedback; Amy couldn’t seem to care less, other than to know that she’s passed, and Yaz senses an opportunity to talk to her on her own while Rory is preoccupied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amy, I wanted to talk to you about the other day...I’m sorry for biting your head off,” Yaz starts. She truly has been feeling bad about how she reacted to Amy’s gentle teasing and now that they’ll probably never see each other again, she wants to make sure she leaves things on good terms. Truth be told, she’s also slightly scared of Amy Pond and she doesn’t ever want to be on her bad side if they do cross paths in the future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Amy is confused, and Yaz wonders if she’s made an error in even bringing it up. But it’s too late, and she ploughs on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On the boat the other day? You were joking around and I didn’t take it too well. I’m sorry.” Yaz wonders if Amy has forgotten about the incident entirely, but she can’t quite bring herself to explain exactly she’s referring to. Besides, Jess is in earshot and Yaz doesn’t want to risk her hearing anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ohhhh.” Amy draws the word out as realisation dawns. “Look, I’m sorry, too. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I just had to say it as I saw it. It’s a bad habit, I guess,” she says, pulling a face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s an awkward pause as each of them try to figure out what to say next. Yaz bites back her instinctive response, which is to deny everything and shut down. Thankfully, Jess spares them the need to say anything at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know about you guys, but I think it’s time to celebrate! Who wants a beer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amy’s face lights up and the tension eases as she grins at Yaz. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on. I’m buying.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>It was inevitable that they’d end up in Graham’s bar, really. He sees the group enter and ushers them to a table by the beach, which has the best view. Once they’re seated, Jess accompanies him to get a round in, ignoring the protests and insisting she be the first to buy them a celebratory drink. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she returns with Yaz’s favourite drink, unprompted, Yaz is touched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, gang. What’s next? More diving?” Jess asks as she seats herself next to Yaz.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hell yes,” Amy replies, “as many as we can squeeze in. We have to go home next week, though. Honeymoon’s nearly over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back to the real world,” Rory says, looking rather miserable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, cheers to another week in paradise,” Yaz says, raising her glass. “And cheers to the best divemaster we could have asked for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turns to Jess and is surprised to see her blushing when Amy and Rory agree enthusiastically. After a moment she begrudgingly raises her beer to join the toast and they all cheer as their glasses touch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a nice way to end things, Yaz muses. Except now, she realises, she doesn’t want this to end. She feels happy, for the first time in a long while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about you, Yaz? Will you dive some more?” Jess asks her and Yaz is certain she’s not imagining it, but she sounds almost apprehensive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” she replies, without a moment’s hesitation. Diving scares her a little, and she’s not budgeted for it in the slightest, and really, she should be exploring and travelling and squeezing in as much as she can, but...she can’t quite bring herself to leave. Not yet. The logical side of her mind is losing an argument with another part of her, the part that she normally hides away. It must be this island, she thinks, this particular combination of weather and people and environment that makes her want to stay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad,” Jess says, face relaxing into a grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long are you out here for, Yaz?” Rory asks, genuinely curious. They hadn’t talked much about why she was there, and Yaz supposes it was only a matter of time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just taking some time off work,” she says, wishing she could give him a better answer. She’s still working on it, opening up to people, especially people she doesn’t know very well. But she surprises herself. When Jess gives her shoulder a squeeze, that reassurance is enough to help her open up, and she finds herself continuing to talk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I work for the Met and they signed me off after I had an...accident.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rory’s eyes grow wide and Amy leans in over the table, instantly intrigued. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz bites the bullet and haltingly tells them the story of why she’s on a leave of absence. As she does so, she can feel Jess beside her, not saying a word; just listening, despite knowing the story already. Having her there puts Yaz’s mind at ease, which is funny, really. On all of their dives, she seemed to have a sixth sense for when Yaz was anxious and now she’s doing the same above water. Yaz had chalked it up to the circumstances but now she wonders if this is something specific to Jess, or maybe even the way they interact. They have a certain chemistry together that Yaz has never encountered before with a friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After she finishes speaking, there’s a moment of silence while the others digest it. Yaz can sense that they view her differently, already, and she fidgets while she waits for them to comment on what she's told them. But they are sympathetic, and horrified that she’d been in such a life-threatening situation. Yaz breathes a sigh of relief, realising that she’d been worrying for no real reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To Yaz,” Jess finally says, raising her beer. “The bravest person I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now it’s Yaz’s turn to blush, and she only barely hears what Jess says to her over the noise the others make as they join the toast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean it, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz can’t quite bring herself to look but she can feel Jess gazing at her, and she blindly lifts her pineapple smoothie, hoping that she doesn’t look as embarrassed as she feels. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Several hours later, the group is still in Graham’s bar, and Yaz has been thoroughly entertained by Amy’s drunken storytelling. She’s funny and although she’s a bit mouthy, Yaz starts to realise it’s all part of the act. Amy might seem confident but in reality, she’s sensitive and aware and it certainly doesn’t hurt that she has some horrendously memorable stories, which make Yaz like her even more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s play a game!” Amy shouts, clamping a hand over her mouth when she realises how loud she’s being. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god,” Yaz murmurs, low-key dreading where this is going. She hates drinking games.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never have I ever,” Rory mumbles, half asleep. His face is propped up on one hand and Yaz considers suggesting if he would be better off going to bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re such a lightweight!” Amy tells him. “One quick game and then you can head back for a nap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m game,” Jess says, setting to work on her fifth beer. They play a few rounds with silly questions, not that anybody needs much more encouragement to keep drinking; Yaz is grateful that she’s sober because she can’t even imagine the scale of the hangover they’re all going to have in the morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never have I ever...been arrested,” Amy eventually says, nodding to Yaz. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody drinks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank goodness for that,” Yaz laughs. “Although I’m kind of surprised given some of your stories, Amy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! I’ll have you know I am an upstanding citizen,” she retorts. “And just for that, I’m going to ask another one.” She gets a wicked glint in her eye and Yaz can tell she’s going to be sneaky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never have I ever kissed a girl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, everyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>but </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yaz drinks. There's no way she will admit to that in front of near strangers, and she knows it was just a brief moment of experimentation; it doesn't really count. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Jess lift her beer and she forces herself not to look, opting instead to gawp at Amy. Much like Rory, she is very surprised that Amy had taken a drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Yaz and Amy speak at once, shocked. Jess laughs as she stands up, excusing herself to pop to the bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your expressions are priceless,” Jess says, and Rory starts to laugh, too, before stopping abruptly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never told me that,” he slurs, and Yaz hopes that Amy will let the subject drop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back in Uni,” Amy tells him, still looking at Yaz curiously. “She was a great kisser, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And on that note,” Rory says, lurching to his feet, “probably time to go home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amy sighs when she sees the state he’s in. “You’re probably right. We’ll leave you guys to it,” she says to Yaz. “Have you really never…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” Yaz confirms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re missing out,” Amy winks. “I’m pretty sure our instructor would be able to show you a thing or two. You could cut the tension between you with a knife.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz puts her head in her hands, wishing Amy would stop saying such things. She wonders if she’s opened the topic up for discussion by apologising and mentally kicks herself for resurrecting the idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See ya,” Amy drawls, waving goodbye. She and Rory cross paths with Jess, who’s on her way back from the bathroom by this point and who nearly trips over a chair as she makes her way back to Yaz. Yaz sighs as the others depart, realising she has a very tipsy divemaster on her hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess flops into her seat, beaming at Yaz. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re my star student, you know. Don’t tell the others,” she winks, leaning in as if she’s confiding a secret. Yaz sees Amy out of the corner of her eye, standing at the door and giving her a thumbs up. She decides that at the very least, they could move somewhere a bit less...obvious. The last thing she wants is people asking questions, and Graham is behind the bar, as ever, keeping a keen eye on his punters. Besides, fresh air might help sober Jess up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I bet you say that to all of your learner divers,” Yaz responds distractedly, looking around them for somewhere quieter to sit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just the ones I like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’s words barely register because Yaz realises at that very moment that the perfect place to get some privacy is right in front of them. The beach is darker and quieter, and away from prying eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shall we move somewhere quieter?” she suggests, as if the idea has only just occurred to her. She raises her voice over the hubbub of chatter in the background to emphasise that the bar is too loud to continue their conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Jess says, taken by surprise. “Lead the way, Yasmin Khan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess holds out her hand and Yaz tries not to roll her eyes at her literal interpretation of the request. But she takes it when she sees Jess wobble on her feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she leads them onto the beach, Jess lets out a sound of confusion. Yaz gently urges her to sit down, joining her on the damp sand once she’s settled. Yaz pushes her feet into it, enjoying the feel of the cool grains on her skin. It’s nice outside; the light of the moon is reflecting off the sea and the sounds of music and conversation fade into the background as the waves hit the shore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, when you said you wanted to go somewhere quieter, I thought you might have been inviting me up to your room,” Jess says, after a long moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz frowns, turning to look at her, and realises that she’s sat down awfully close to the other woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then her words are cut short as Jess kisses her, leaning in so quickly that she takes Yaz by complete surprise. She tastes of beer but it’s not unpleasant and really, all Yaz can sense is the softness of her lips as they press against her own. They move subtly, encouraging Yaz to kiss her back and she does, instinctively, before she remembers precisely who she’s kissing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whoah,” she murmurs, a hand on Jess’s shoulder pushing her back. “No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her tone is firm, harsher than she’d intended, and she winces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess might be drunk but it’s clear from the way she looks at Yaz that the kiss was no accident. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not gay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess holds up her hands. “I didn’t say you were.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Jess laughs, the sound is bitter. “There’s nothing wrong with it, you know. But I’m sorry, either way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz doesn’t answer, pushing herself to her feet and stumbling as the sand shifts underneath her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Yaz,” Jess repeats, more panicked now, starting to get to her feet as Yaz backs away. As much as she wants to tell Jess it's okay, that she doesn't need to apologise, she is too overwhelmed by how she feels to think. She can’t do this, not when Jess is drunk and that kiss...that kiss made her feel alive in a way that she’s never felt before. It’s frightening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Say something, please," Jess pleads, and Yaz is shocked to realise that she is on the verge of tears. She's never seen Jess upset before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Yaz is speechless, unequipped to handle this particular situation, and when Jess reaches out for her - either to give or request comfort, she can't tell - Yaz flinches. She's shutting down again, closing herself off like she normally does, and it pains her to realise it happening in real time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is this how I deal with things?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do this,” she murmurs aloud, shrinking back on herself. She can’t even look Jess in the eye. So she turns and runs, ignoring the plaintive cry of the woman behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I didn't want to leave you guys hanging too long! Happy Sunday :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Yaz doesn't recall the journey back to her room. She hears Graham call out to her but all she can think about is the woman she's left behind on the beach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Part of her wants to go back more than anything, but what would she say? The damage has been done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She waves at Graham, hoping that it's reassuring. She wonders if Jess will do a better job of hiding how upset she is when she makes her way through the bar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's only once she shuts the door behind her that Yaz feels safe to unpack her feelings. She locks it, just to be on the safe side, and throws herself onto the bed. It takes a few minutes for her heart rate to return to normal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it does, she stops evading the question that is demanding to be answered more than any other: why did she enjoy that kiss?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's distracting to remember it but Yaz focuses on the feelings it provoked. She felt safe. Surprised, yes, but pleasantly so. And relieved? Why would she be relieved? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz sighs loudly, turning onto her side and bringing her knees up to her chest. As she does so, she realises something else. She's turned on. Yaz freezes. Kissing doesn't normally turn her on quite so much, especially a kiss as brief as that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it had been Jess who had kissed her. Yaz lets that sink in for a second. Jess, who is funny and clever and beautiful, had wanted to kiss </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Regardless of the fact that Jess is a woman, Yaz realises that she is flattered. But she'd well and truly put her foot in it when she'd pushed Jess away, and why? Because all she could think was that she shouldn't like kissing her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm an idiot," she declares to the room, but of course, there's no reply. She's alone again. Yaz realises that she needs to take a long, hard look at herself and not be scared of what she sees. Jess sees something in her that she herself doesn't, and that's as good a reason to look as any. She can at least try, for Jess. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>After a night of no sleep, there is no way Yaz trusts herself to dive. She is exhausted and surprisingly emotional, struggling to come to terms with some of the things she had realised over the course of her self-introspection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that she thinks Jess would take her diving, anyway. Yaz slides open the balcony doors, hearing the sounds of birds in the trees as they greet the morning. It's early, but the sky is starting to lighten and with it, so does Yaz's mood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things will be alright. She just needs some time to figure out what she's going to do. And high on that list is the apology she owes Jess. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But when Yaz chances a walk past Jess's shop later that morning - it had taken all her patience to wait until it would be open and then all of her courage to walk past it - it's shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz had fully been expecting to see Jess inside, corralling her divers and getting ready to head out for the morning. It's eerily quiet. Even her bike is gone and Yaz hopes she didn't drive home, because even sober she is a bit of a hazard on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite her nerves, Yaz is strangely disappointed. She remembers that she has Jess's phone number - she'd transferred it straight to her phone in case she lost the paper it was written on - and retrieves her phone, starting to type in a message, when she stops herself. This needs to be done in person, and it's clear that Jess does not want to speak to her if she's shut up shop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Yaz walks. She walks for an hour or so, taking time to explore the island away from the little bubble she's been living in for the past few days. It's beautiful, and there are enough new sights to distract her from her inner turmoil. She even finds herself signing up to dive with another shop when they say they're going to a spot that's popular with whale sharks. Yaz reasons that Jess wouldn't hold it against her for jumping at the opportunity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A few hours later, Yaz heads home. Except this time, Jess's bike is parked outside. Her helmet is swinging lightly from the handlebars, suggesting she's just arrived, and Yaz frowns when she sees how scratched it is. She's pretty sure it wasn't that badly scuffed before. Her heart rate spikes when she sees it and she forces herself to walk past Graham's bar and straight into the dive shop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lights aren't on so it looks shut, but Yaz can hear the sound of movement from inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jess?" Her voice wavers a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rummaging stops and after a moment, Jess appears from the depths of the shop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, Yaz. It's you." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz nods. "You didn't open today?'</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Had to come back for something," Jess says, sidestepping the question. "Memory like a sieve."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz knows that's not true, just as much as she can tell that the smile Jess puts on is forced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She's so uncharacteristically quiet and subdued and Yaz doesn't know how to fill the silence. When Jess turns to resume her task, though, Yaz spots something that makes her gasp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh my god, your arm," she murmurs, automatically reaching out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The graze is fresh, to the point that Yaz can see blood oozing from it. It's also large, covering most of the skin from Jess's wrist to her elbow. But just as her fingertips touch Jess's arm, she jerks it away, flinching. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz tries not to take it personally. She'd done the same thing last night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What happened?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Came off my bike. Bloody pothole."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess's tone is clipped but Yaz perseveres.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I wish you'd told me you were hurt."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess laughs and the sound is truly bitter, taking Yaz by surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why would you care?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz scrambles for an appropriate answer and realises she is woefully underprepared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because...because we're friends, of a sort," she exhales, sticking with the safe option. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess pauses, clearly wrestling with the concept, and then she sighs. Something of her normal self shines through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry, Yaz. You're right. Of course. I guess I'm just a bit embarrassed about what happened last night. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's easier to apologise when someone else does it first but Yaz's stomach clenches at Jess's expression. She looks downhearted and Yaz knows her response to the kiss is largely to blame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, you don't need to say sorry. I'm sorry for the way I reacted. I know there's nothing wrong with...with...that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Being gay, is that what you're trying to say?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz finds herself stumbling over the word she fears but she makes herself say it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. I'm sorry if it seemed like I thought there was something wrong with being gay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Everyone is so obsessed with labels, anyway," Jess sighs. "It doesn't matter. It wouldn't be the first time someone said that there's something wrong with me, anyway. I'm kind of used to it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Long story." Jess doesn't elucidate but Yaz wants to know. The least she can do is hear her out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm here if you want to talk," she offers, hopefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But you're not, Yaz. Not in the way I wish you were. And I don't think you're ready to hear what I have to say."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words are hard to hear and Yaz feels them like they are physical blows. She bites her tongue as Jess explains herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I just need a bit of time to get my head straight. I'm absolutely mortified that I did that. I just...I read the signals wrong. I thought you liked me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz sees the opportunity and hesitates. She's not sure she's quite ready to admit that she does, in fact, like Jess in that way. The realisation is still fresh and untested and the last thing Yaz wants to do is hurt Jess any more. Even if she says she does, all Jess will do is question why she reacted so poorly and Yaz isn't ready to explain herself. So, hard as it is to see the other woman awaiting a response, Yaz continues to say nothing because anything she says right now will probably be the wrong thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess must realise that she's not going to get an answer either way because she sighs again and resumes pottering, rifling through another drawer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence drags on for long enough that Yaz feels safe to move the topic on. Or rather, resume a line of questioning that Jess had shut down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why are you not diving?" Yaz pushes for a better answer and is surprised when she gets one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't really feel like it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It might make you feel better?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess laughs sadly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe." She pauses, considering Yaz's suggestion properly. "You know what, you're probably right. I'm not good when I mope." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, she continues rummaging and winces as her arm brushes against something. Yaz spots a window of opportunity to try and make amends. Besides, the graze looks like it needs tending to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you want me to clean that for you?" she offers, pointing at Jess's arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll be fine. I can do it." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz refuses to be put off. She's getting a feel for just how stubborn this woman can be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know you can, but it's easier for someone else to do it. Would you like me to?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess stops and takes a shuddering breath, bracing herself against the desk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know if that's a good idea, Yaz."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I promise I won't hurt you," Yaz tries, already looking around for a first aid kit, or at least something to clean the wound with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How can you be so sure?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess sounds utterly broken and Yaz feels her own heart break at her expression. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I shouldn't have said that. Foot in mouth syndrome today. Thanks, Yaz, but I'm probably not very good company right now. Come back in a few days and I'll take you out. Diving, I mean. Take you out diving. How does that sound?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pastes on a smile again and Yaz realises that arguing will be futile. Her words have made their mark, too, and Yaz decides it would be safest to beat a retreat. She's apologised, which is what she had come here to do. But now clearly isn't the time to open up about the other things that have been taking over her thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure," Yaz nods, more than a little sad. Maybe they both just need some time. "I'll see you soon."</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Except Yaz doesn't see Jess for several days. Each morning, she walks past her shop only to find it shut. She dives with the other boat and has a good time but it's not quite the same, not as fun. She misses Jess and is worried that she's not alright, but she had asked for space and time and Yaz has to give it to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And time seems to grind to a halt. Yaz does manage to finish one of the books she brought with her but she barely remembers it the moment she puts it down. Sometimes, she picks up Jess's hoodie and brings it to her face, breathing in the comforting scent. That in itself gives her pause and she resolves to stop doing it because not only is it borderline creepy, it has become something of a bad habit. Clara has texted a few times but she asks questions that Yaz doesn't want to answer just yet. She really should reach out to Clara; perhaps she could give her some advice, but Yaz is stubborn and determined to work this out on her own. Besides, who else can tell her what she's feeling but herself?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her phone burns a hole in her pocket but she successfully ignores the urge to text her. It's hard, and Yaz wonders if she should just delete her number outright. But a voice tells her to be patient, to hang on just a little longer. That there might be a way of fixing this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, in an attempt to keep busy after another futile attempt at seeing Jess, Yaz decides to go to Graham's bar and try a cocktail or three. Other people seem to have a good time when they drink and right now, it's what she needs to get out of her own head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you sure? I didn't think you drank," Graham frowns. The bar is quiet this evening, but Yaz is pretty certain he's always there to keep an eye on things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Every now and again," Yaz lies. She is glad her mum will never find out because she would be very disappointed. The benefits of having a crisis so far away from home, she muses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz briefly contemplates calling Najia before ruling that out just as quickly. What could her mum tell her? Yaz wasn't even entirely sure she approved of non-traditional relationships and besides, what would she say? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mum, I don't think I'm entirely straight? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Her mum tended to see things in black and white and a statement like that wouldn't help. Najia Khan liked order and for things to be obvious and straightforward. This particular crisis would leave her reeling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever Graham makes her is sweet and not too strong, but it's enough to ease the vice of constant over-thinking that's clamped itself around every waking minute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What have you got there?" someone asks, and Yaz turns to see a very tanned-looking man sit next to her at the bar. "I'll have what she's having," he tells Graham, and Yaz can hear an American accent. She's not met many Americans, but this one is charming and good looking and just what she needs to get out of her own head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After two more drinks she is very glad he asks if she'd like to move to one of the sofas on the other side of the bar because it means she can sit closer to him. He wraps an arm around her shoulder with practiced ease but Yaz doesn't really care; she just needs to know how she feels about something, and this is an easy win. She's been in a situation like this a few times before, minus the alcohol, and it's familiar enough that she can forget everything else that's bothering her. Besides, if she enjoys kissing him - as she is certain will happen as the night progresses - then perhaps she's worrying over nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But when he does kiss her, it feels wrong. Yaz can't help but compare him with Jess and there really is no contest. She tries, places her hand on his chest so she can lean in and get closer, but he feels wrong, smells wrong, and he is far too pushy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait," she gasps, pulling away. "I'm sorry, I'm just-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A tease?" the man smirks, and Yaz realises how telling it is that she still can't remember his name. He's just a distraction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's rude," she mutters, trying to put some distance between them, but his grip around her shoulders tightens and she can't quite pull away. The room is spinning slightly thanks to her low alcohol tolerance and Yaz can't quite function well enough to evade his grip. She wishes Jess was there because she's suddenly found herself in a situation she really does not want to be in, and Jess makes her feel safe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Graham is there instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oi, leave the lady alone," he calls out, moving out from behind the bar and across the room with surprising speed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man immediately loosens his grip and Yaz feels like she can breathe again. Even the smell of his aftershave is making her feel sick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fine, have it your way. You Brits are so stuck up," he laughs, and Yaz doesn't find it remotely funny. She is dizzy with relief when he stands up, and the relief turns to nausea as she realises what she's done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She barely hears Graham kicking the man out of his bar because she's running to the nearest loo and then she's emptying her stomach into it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her grip on the cool porcelain is an unwelcome reminder of the first - and last - time she drank. As the heaving finally abates, Yaz decides that she really does hate alcohol. But maybe not as much as herself, right now. She shivers, feeling wretched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yaz?" Graham knocks on the bathroom door. "Are you alright, love? He's gone, and barred."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz wipes the back of her hand with her mouth and gets to her feet shakily, already feeling better. She feels a bit sheepish when she opens the door but Graham is looking at her with such concern that she almost cries. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Come on, I'll make you some tea and you and me can have a chat."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz nods, realising that she could do with someone to talk to, more than anything. Graham knows Jess, and Yaz likes him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I just need to brush my teeth," Yaz grimaces as the taste of bile lingers, and when she's up in her room she also decides to take Jess's hoodie with her. The moment she slips it over her head she feels much more at ease and it takes the edge off the night breeze as she joins Graham on the beach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's got two mugs of tea, sweet and milky, and Yaz muses that the last time she was sitting on this beach in the dark, everything had changed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feeling better?” he turns to ask her, patting the sand next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just about,” Yaz says, but she can still taste bile despite the minty toothpaste. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw Jess the other night. She seemed upset,” Graham says plainly, handing Yaz a mug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah. Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a pause as they both take a sip of their teas. Yaz can tell from his tone that Graham isn’t going to drop this subject and braces herself for what he’s about to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know much about why Jess is here? She doesn't really tell people but I think you need to know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s never said anything. But then, I haven’t really asked.” Yaz is intrigued because Graham is hinting at something and she is, really, quite interested in why Jess is here, but his choice of words has left her on edge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our Doc was a paediatrician, back home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz feels so stupid for not putting two and two together. Jess’s medical knowledge makes a lot more sense, now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just thought it was a nickname,” she muses, realising how silly that sounds. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She doesn't like when I call her it, but old habits die hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My wife, Grace, used to work with the Doc...Jess. A few years ago, now. They worked on the same ward and one month, a kid died. Never nice, but it happens. This particular kid, though...Jess took it hard. The parents blamed her for what happened and she took it badly, even though it wasn’t her fault and she did everything she could to help. She always has done, helped people above and beyond what most people are capable of. So for them to blame her...it rankled. Grace came home in tears that day. She saw a lot of awful things, but that really upset her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz can't even imagine how it must have felt. Jess is so emotionally invested in everything that she does that she would have taken criticism very personally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Graham stares at the horizon for a while, as if he's mentally preparing for what he needs to say next. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When Grace died, I moved out here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes Yaz a second to register the change in topic but the moment they do, her heart sinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Graham. I’m so sorry.” She genuinely is; she had no idea that he was widowed, and his cheerful demeanour belies a hidden pain that Yaz can only just now glimpse. Like her, everybody seems to be hiding something that haunts them, dealing with pain, and yet all anybody has done is support and sympathise with her. Yaz feels truly wretched about how self-absorbed she's been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, love. These things happen. Anyway, Jess kept in touch with me, after, and moved out here when she decided to take a break from medicine. She persevered for a couple of years after that incident, but it was never quite the same and she burned out. She had no family to keep her there. I don’t think you know this but she's had a tough life, Yaz. She may seem hopeful and upbeat and positive but she is masking a lot of pain. And honestly, I think you are, too. But when I see you two together, I see two people who have eyes only for one another.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s a twinkle in Graham’s own eye as he says it and Yaz bites back her instinctive response to deny it. Everybody but her seems to have realised that there is something between them and, now that she knows more about the other woman, Yaz realises she has fallen for her. Not only that, but she’s made a mistake by pushing her away. She’s gobsmacked, and plants her tea in the sand so that she can wrap her arms around her knees and brace herself through a wave of self-pity. What a fool she’s been. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be upset, love. You just do what makes you happy. I, for one, am not going to judge you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Honestly. Life is too short to think about what could have been. Take me, for example," Graham smiles, jerking a thumb back towards himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"After Grace died, I knew I couldn’t stay at home. I had to get away and do what she’d wanted us to do, even if it was on my own. This is my way of remembering her, and look around you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Graham gestures to the scenery surrounding them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The pay-off can be worth the gamble. Just take the time you need to figure things out."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what,” Yaz says, and she surprises herself by saying the words aloud. “I think I’ve figured it out. I just needed someone to talk sense into me. Thank you, Graham. I really mean it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? That’s great, love. I’m glad.” He smiles genuinely, and Yaz starts to see the light at the end of the tunnel. It feels nice after so many days of uncertainty and misery. However, Graham isn’t quite finished and his tone becomes serious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever happens, Yaz, please. Don’t hurt her. She's been through enough already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The idea makes Yaz feel sick again and, then and there, she resolves to fix things with Jess to the best of her ability. Jess is hurting, and she is hurting, and there is an obvious solution - they could both be happy. Together. She feels hope flicker in her chest and she nurtures it carefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t, I promise. Not again, and not if I can help it.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The gentle sound of rain gradually wakes Yaz the next day. It's light outside, which takes her by surprise because she's been up with the sun most mornings but it seems like she's finally adjusted to the time zone and jetlag is a thing of the past. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That, and she slept well for the first time in months. Now that she knows what she needs to do, and has accepted how she feels, Yaz is finally at peace with herself.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A familiar clang rings out from downstairs and she jumps out of bed, heading for the balcony. She is surprised to see that Jess's dive shop is open, and there are people inside. If she listens carefully, she can hear Amy speaking, her Scottish accent distinctive amongst the general chatter. Then, Rory appears carrying a bag of kit out onto the beach, where a longtail awaits. Yaz holds her breath when she finally sees Jess emerge and her grip on the balcony railing tightens imperceptibly. She hadn't been expecting to see Jess at all and she is so happy to see her that it takes a moment for her to realise she's also hurt by the fact that they've gone diving without her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Come on," Jess says, and the familiar sound of her voice gives Yaz goosebumps. She's missed hearing it. And then they're leaving and it takes all of Yaz's willpower not to call out and ask them to wait for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz is surprised they're diving at all given the weather - the clouds on the horizon look ominous, and Yaz has seen firsthand how quickly things can turn. But she knows that Jess dives in all weather and that she came back without issue the last time there was heavy rain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, instead of shouting out, Yaz watches as the little boat sails away out to sea. She decides that when they return, she will speak to Jess. Even if all that comes of it is that she can return her hoodie, she needs to clear the air between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Graham joins her as she takes a seat downstairs, facing the sea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How are you doing today, love?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good," she says. "Just going to wait for them to come back in."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gestures to the dive boat that is heading off into the horizon. Grey clouds hang low, and Yaz can't quite shake the feeling that's been plaguing her since she saw them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You feel it too?" Graham asks, and Yaz belatedly notices that she's rubbing her arms as if to ward off a chill. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," she admits. "There's something about those clouds that makes me nervous."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You and me both," Graham agrees. "Mind if I keep you company for a bit?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not at all," Yaz says, and she truly means it. Graham is a comforting presence, and she could do with a distraction. If she's left with her thoughts for too long, Yaz thinks she might chicken out of what she's going to say to Jess when she returns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So they talk about life back home, and Yaz tells him about why she is travelling. It's getting easier to open up and admit her feelings about things, and it doesn't hurt that Graham is so easy to talk to. When he learns about her prolonged recovery from the injury he even insists on making her some lunch, as if food can make up for the pain she's gone through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she takes the first bite, Yaz realises he might actually be onto something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It starts to thunder, then, and Yaz is glad she's eaten because there's no way she can concentrate now. Not on anything but the thought of Jess, who is out at sea in a thunderstorm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She'll be alright," Graham says, making his sixth cup of tea. "She knows what she's doing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz has to take his word for it and trust that they'll get back safely. She's not good at not being in control, and this is an exercise in patience. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why don't you try reading?" Graham suggests. "I'm going to give the place a quick wipe down."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sets to work scrubbing the bar, declining Yaz's offer of help. She's a paying guest and it helps him relax, he says. Instead, he points her in the direction of the book swap shelf, and Yaz reluctantly wanders over. As soon as she sees </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pride and Prejudice</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she takes it as a sign. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's not a tricky read as such, but it's probably not the best choice of reading material when her mind is all over the shop. She debates messaging Clara to ask her about it but perseveres, determined to at least make some headway before she can decide whether it's worth continuing.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, after several hours of waiting and three aborted attempts to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pride and Prejudice</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Graham jogs to the beach side of the bar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There they are," he gestures towards the water and Yaz joins him, squinting at where he's pointing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barely visible, the little boat is chugging back towards the shore. The sight is a welcome one and Yaz relaxes, relieved they're on their way back. Butterflies come to life in her stomach, though, when she remembers what she's going to talk to Jess about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her plans are put on hold the moment the longtail reaches the shore. Jess is nowhere to be seen and Amy looks frantic, which prompts a similar response in Yaz. She starts taking a step towards the beach, oblivious to the rain that soaks her clothes through within seconds. It's warm but Yaz barely notices it, too concerned about Jess's whereabouts to really care. She should have been on that boat with the others. Where is she?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rory is already halfway out of the boat before it even stops and Yaz is surprised to see that the captain of the dive boat has also come ashore. Normally, he waits out at sea, but today he is talking in rapid Thai with the driver of the smaller boat, gesticulating wildly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something is wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz finally understands why Amy looks so worried when Rory and the captain bend over and lift Jess out of the bottom of the boat. She's in her bikini and she isn't moving, sagging between them as they pick her up by her arms and legs. She looks like a dead weight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Doc?" Graham calls out. Yaz had almost forgotten he was there and she picks up the pace, closing the distance and grabbing Amy by the arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What happened?" she says, doing her best to stay calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yaz!" Amy exclaims, relieved to see her. "She hit her head. Fell overboard. We got her back on, but…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz feels sick when she sees the blood. Half of Jess's face is crimson and she looks so pale that Yaz wonders if she's dead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is she…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She can't bring herself to say the words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She's breathing," Rory says, and Yaz notes how different he sounds. How confident. It makes a change from the meek and mild Rory she thought she knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But we need to get her inside and hydrated. Is there a hospital near here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, but I don't think it's safe to drive in this," Graham says, arms outstretched in the rain. "The roads are bad enough on a good day."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can you take her to my room?" Yaz asks without thinking. "Graham, do you have a first aid kit?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Will that be enough?" he asks, clearly uncertain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If it's a good one," Rory pants, shifting Jess's weight as he and the captain carry her awkwardly up the beach and into Graham's bar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes a while to get Jess upstairs but eventually they manage it, with Yaz and Amy guiding them. Graham follows them up, armed with towels and the biggest first aid kit that Yaz has ever seen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Borrowed the Doc's. I'm sure she won't mind," he says with a tight smile. They've trailed water all through his hotel and he nearly slips on it, but he grabs onto a handrail to steady himself at the last second. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Should really have put in carpets," he mutters, and Yaz realises that he's in shock. He looks dazed, and Yaz takes the kit from his hands with what she hopes is a reassuring smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She'll be ok," she says, hoping it's true. When she watches Rory open it up and pull on a pair of latex gloves, though, she can't help but relive the last time she was on the receiving end of first aid. It hadn't been pleasant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But much to her relief, the moment that she's laid on Yaz's bed, Jess starts to stir. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, now you wake up!" Graham exclaims, and Yaz can hear precisely how relieved he is that she's conscious. She feels much the same, overjoyed to see those hazel eyes she missed so dearly. She gently holds up Jess's head so that Graham can put some towels down underneath to limit the spread of blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" Jess mumbles, trying and failing to sit upright. She's weak, that much is clear, and Yaz sees goosebumps on her exposed skin, which has a nasty blue tinge to it near her fingertips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have you got some spare blankets?" she asks Graham and he disappears without another word. She turns to Jess and urges her to stay still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yaz? Why are you here?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're in my room," Yaz says, trying to keep things simple. She reaches for Jess's hand to try and offer some comfort but the other woman seems thoroughly confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You had a bit of an accident, Jess. You slipped and hit your head. And then you fell overboard. Do you remember?" Rory says, and he holds Jess's head still with gloved hands as he looks into her eyes. Yaz is suddenly glad she hadn't been there to witness the accident because she's not sure she'd be as level-headed as he currently is. Horrific images flash through her mind of Jess falling into the water and disappearing from sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess tries to bat Rory's hands away, clearly agitated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why are you so wet?" she grumbles, looking down at herself. “Why am I so wet? Did I go swimming?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Yaz hadn't been concerned before, she certainly is now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Storm, Doc. Big one," Graham explains as he returns with a blanket that he promptly unfolds and uses to cover Jess up. Yaz can't help but tuck the sides around her, feeling the shivers wracking her frame. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Better?" She asks, and Jess nods slightly, reaching for her hand again when she sees Rory hold up a suture kit.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is it that bad?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's bleeding quite a lot but we'll clean it up and have a look, alright?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if on cue, fresh blood surges to the wound. Amy turns even paler and Yaz feels similarly queasy but she knows she has to push through the nausea when Rory asks for her help.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Amy, why don't you go and get dry?" Rory suggests. "She's not good with blood," he murmurs to Yaz.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You seem to be, though?" she asks, wishing she could tell him she finds it equally hard to deal with. But then Jess's hand grips hers and she remembers why she needs to stay strong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Rory's the best nurse there is," Amy answers, giving his shoulder a squeeze as she leaves the room, and Yaz is relieved that at least someone else in the room has medical training.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Think I'll make everyone a cuppa," Graham says, looking a little green around the gills. "Amy, right? Why don't you come with me and I'll get you some towels. Reckon our friend here could do with something stronger to drink as well," he says, gesturing to the captain, and the three of them leave Rory and Yaz with their patient, who is becoming irritable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's going on?" Jess asks, blinking fast. The blood is probably making it hard to see and Rory clearly notices at the same time because he quickly gathers some cotton wool and disinfectant. The sharp smell of it turns Yaz's stomach, reminding her of the hospital she'd spent far too long in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can you keep her calm?" he asks Yaz, and his demeanour helps her focus. Seeing Jess in distress is hard to handle but Rory will help her, and he needs Yaz's help in turn.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll try," she smiles grimly, keeping hold of Jess's hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jess? Jess? It’s me, Yaz. Look at me for a sec."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess does and Yaz feels her words initially fail her when their eyes first meet. They haven't talked since their awkward interaction in the shop and Yaz forgets how distracted she gets in Jess's presence. At least now she knows why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry," she starts. "I couldn't say what I wanted to say the other day. In the shop. I was terrified of saying it aloud."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess winces as Rory starts to clean the cut on her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"...and what was that?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You terrify me," Yaz admits, bluntly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait. What? I'm terrifying?" Jess seems confused and Yaz realises she's not wording things right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, you're not. You're amazing, Jess. But the way you make me feel scares me more than anything I've ever known."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hears her voice wobble slightly with the admission and is grateful that Rory is preoccupied, but more than likely he is hanging on every word. They are not easy words to say but they are very important, and Yaz feels much better for saying them aloud, at last. Jess needed to hear them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This probably isn't the best time to tell you, Jess, but I can't risk not telling you again. Not if you start throwing yourself overboard on a regular basis and nearly drowning yourself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess laughs a little at that, then hisses through clenched teeth when Rory gets right into the wound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shit."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Squeeze my hand," Yaz suggests. "I can take it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess does as she's told and Yaz barely flinches at the iron grip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're a brave one, Yaz," she says, gritting her teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And you're even braver," Yaz responds. She can see Rory working out of the corner of her eye but right now she only has eyes for Jess and for a moment, it feels like they're the only people in the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rory clears his throat gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You need a few stitches, Jess. But I think it's small enough that I can use this."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He holds up a bottle of surgical glue and Jess nods in relief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank god for that, I hate needles."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess's voice is stronger than it was previously, Yaz is pleased to note, and she and Rory share a look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A doctor who hates needles?" Yaz comments.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who told you that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz realises that she might have landed Graham in it because Jess apparently doesn’t tell many people about her past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The name of the shop is a bit of a giveaway,” Yaz hedges, but she knows it’s feeble and she doesn’t want to start things off on the wrong foot.  Honesty is her new best policy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And...well, I'm sure you won't mind, but Graham did tell me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They're silent a moment as Rory glues the skin together, covering it with a small square of gauze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"All patched up," he confirms, pulling off the gloves in relief. "How are you feeling?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess ponders the question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Like shit," she admits, and Yaz pulls the blanket up higher when she sees her shiver again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's pretty fair," he says. "You gave us a bit of a fright."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have to get my kicks somewhere," Jess murmurs, and her eyelids start to droop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is she okay to sleep?" Yaz asks. She's pretty sure people shouldn't sleep after head injuries. Or near death experiences, although the latter are pretty exhausting. She knows that first-hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm fine to sleep," Jess grumbles, eyes now closed. The furrow in her brow eases and Yaz can't tear her eyes away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rory sighs. "She's probably right. She can hold a conversation and she doesn't seem unusually sleepy given the circumstances. But she might be a bit confused and she definitely shouldn't be left alone for a little while."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz nods. She wasn't planning on going anywhere. Rory is now hovering by the door, and she realises that he is probably in need of some warmer clothes than a pair of jellyfish-patterned swimming trunks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You should get dry," she suggests, before surprising both of them by pulling him in for a hug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you," she murmurs. "I owe you. We both do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"By the sounds of it, I think you have bigger fish to fry when she wakes up," Rory says. "None of my business, I know. But good luck. Doctors make the worst patients."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that word of warning, he departs. Yaz can hear him talking to Amy further down the corridor and she has to pinch herself to believe what just happened. She turns. Jess is there, in her bed. It was going to be a long night. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Jess sleeps for hours. She barely even moves and, more than once, Yaz has to check she is still breathing. She is, albeit quietly. Yaz feels silly every time she checks but the reassurance is much needed. The room is so quiet without Jess's voice and all Yaz has for background noise is the sound of the storm outside. Graham pops up at one point with some tea and sits with her for a bit but other than that, Yaz is left with her thoughts once he heads to bed. She turns on the bedside light, trying to keep it dark enough for Jess to sleep through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reading is futile and watching TV is out of the question if there is the slightest chance of it waking Jess. So Yaz waits. She's not good at waiting, normally, but she has to prepare an explanation. And when Jess finally does start to rouse, Yaz still wishes she had just a little longer to get her thoughts in order. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yaz?" Jess murmurs. It's been so quiet for so long that Yaz isn't entirely sure Jess has spoken. She perches on the end of the bed, relieved to see her eyes open fully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey, you," Yaz says, biting her tongue when she hears what she's said aloud. "How are you feeling?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess frowns, looking around the room distractedly. She’d been in it before so it should look at least mildly familiar, Yaz thinks, but Jess’s next words set her on edge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A bit confused."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz panics. "Confused? Wait, how do you mean? Do you know where you are?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess holds up a hand to stop her from working herself into an even greater panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, no. I mean, I'm fine. I feel okay, all things considered. I'm just confused about why I'm here. I'd have thought there would be plenty of other rooms."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz has to admit she has a point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It felt like the right thing to do. There's a storm raging and this was the closest place I could think of. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess pushes herself onto her elbows to look out the window. Her hair has dried and it's curled in a way that makes her look younger than usual.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh wow. It's really going for it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lets herself fall back onto the bed with a sigh, then winces slightly as her fingers probe the edge of the gauze on her forehead.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why's that?" she continues, huffing as Yaz instantly moves her hand away from the injury.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why what?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why did it feel like the right thing to do?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even hurt and tired, Jess is as sharp as a tack and Yaz falters. She looks for a clue in Jess's stony expression, which is giving nothing away. But then it softens. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You just wanted to get me into bed, didn't you." A grin tugs at Jess's lips as she tries and fails to keep a straight face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz gently punches her in the arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't give up, do you?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really, no. I’m a pretty stubborn person.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m starting to realise that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They regard each other for a moment and the longer the silence between them stretches on, the more Yaz longs to fill it. But it also feels like they’re sussing each other out, and Yaz isn’t quite sure what to say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess shifts and fails to mute a groan of pain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Yaz asks, instantly concerned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Jess insists, but her face is pale and she licks her lips as she breathes through a wave of something unpleasant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn’t look like nothing,” Yaz insists, doing the only thing she can and reaching for Jess’s hand. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feel a bit queasy,” Jess admits, her hand clenching as another wave of it hits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take it easy,” Yaz murmurs. “Can I get you anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some water?” Jess asks, and Yaz is off like a shot, returning mere seconds later with a fresh bottle from the fridge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you sit up? Or will that make it worse?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only one way to find out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz tries to help her sit up but despite feeling rough, Jess still manages to push herself upright with surprising strength, leaving Yaz at a loose end. The blanket falls away and Jess shivers, and both of them can’t help but notice the fact that she’s still in her bikini. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. I forgot about that,” Jess sighs, clearly uncomfortable in the damp material. Yaz can see goosebumps all over her exposed  skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me get you something warmer to wear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz busies herself, rummaging through her backpack to find some spare comfy clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turns to give Jess an old t-shirt and some spare pyjama shorts and almost drops them. The bikini top has been thrown carelessly to the floor and Jess is working on the bottoms, which are thankfully still hidden beneath the blanket. She doesn’t look up from her task when she speaks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can look, Yaz. I don't mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz does look, just in time to see bikini bottoms land on the floor, joining their top half. It feels as if the universe must be having a laugh at her expense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank god, that's so much better!” Jess does not seem remotely bothered that she is topless in front of Yaz, who can’t tear her eyes away. Jess’s breasts are smaller than her own and look like they would fit perfectly in her hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, her hands are bearing clothes, which Jess takes gratefully. When she slides the T-shirt over her head the spell is broken. And when she shifts to pull on the pyjama bottoms, Yaz finally turns away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erm...wait, I have your hoodie,” she murmurs, remembering the soft jumper she’d been meaning to return for days. She pretends to rummage for it, when in reality it’s within arm’s reach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess pulls it on, although Yaz urges caution when she impatiently tugs it over her injured forehead a bit too hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow,” she hisses, and Yaz winces at her expression. “I wondered where this went. My lucky hoodie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz isn’t quite ready to admit that she’d been deliberately holding onto it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I forgot I had it,” she lies. Jess doesn’t seem to mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It smells like you, now. I like it,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why can’t she be as honest as Jess is? Because that’s precisely why she’d kept hold of it; it smelled like the other woman, and the sea. Yaz is debating whether to admit the same thing when she realises that Jess’s eyes have started to droop. Her cheeks are pinker already, and she looks a lot healthier than she did a few hours ago. As if on cue, she starts to settle back onto the mattress, water drunk and left to one side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You had a bit of an adventure today. You should sleep and we'll talk later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz gets up, certain Graham can find her another room if he’s still awake. Either that or she'll crash on a sofa downstairs, since it's past 2am and the bar is shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz has barely taken a step away when Jess’s voice stops her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just going to find somewhere to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I'm not kicking you out of your own room. I promise I’ll keep myself to myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess holds up the sheet and Yaz hesitates, cringing at the memory of what happened on the beach. The idea is incredibly tempting but she has no idea where they stand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Yaz, I’m letting all the heat out. I’m cold, and you’re warm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way she says it so simply puts Yaz’s mind at ease and she relents, carefully easing herself under the sheets, which Jess insists on holding up until she’s settled. She takes a deep breath and turns onto her side to face the other woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this okay?” Jess asks, and despite how exhausted she must be, her eyes sparkle in the low light of the room. They are bright and intelligent and they hold Yaz captive, stealing that carefully held breath away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More than ok." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being cocooned in bed with Jess feels safe, like they’re in a bubble that’s sheltered from the outside world. Just the two of them staying safe and dry while the storm rages outside. But Yaz knows she’s harbouring an inner storm and there’s only so long she can keep it at bay. Jess looks at her like she knows Yaz is about to say something and Yaz realises she’s fidgeting as she strives to get a handle on her thoughts before they spill out of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something’s bothering you, Yaz. You won’t get any sleep at this rate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz shoves one of her hands under the pillow, grasping the corner with the other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you’re right. But you need to sleep before I say any of this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess laughs lightly, and despite the exhaustion painting her features she seems more lively than she had been just hours previously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I can handle it, Yaz. Today’s already thrown a lot at me. And you can’t just leave me hanging like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess grins and that’s enough to unlock whatever’s on the tip of Yaz’s tongue. It trips out before she can get her words in order.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been thinking a lot recently. About why I am the way I am. Why I’m here. I've been running away from things for a long time, and I’m still doing it even now. Here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Those are pretty deep thoughts, Yaz. But I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz thinks of what Graham had told her. Why Jess had left home to begin with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coming to a place like this, so far away from home, can give you some perspective,” Jess continues, stifling a yawn. It really is late but the sentiment is nearly Yaz’s undoing and she wrestles with it for a moment. Jess gets her. She doesn’t judge her and she likes her for who she is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I really needed it. I think I really needed you, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess opens and shuts her mouth silently. She seems to know that Yaz needs to be listened to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz tugs on the pillow in an attempt to dispel her nervous energy. Then, she finally admits what she feels, and it’s what she’s been running from her whole life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Being around you makes me so happy, Jess. You're like the best person I've ever met."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Wow,” Jess breathes, awed at the admission. She looks like she’s been given some kind of gift, which, Yaz supposes, her honest admission is. And it's the least that Jess deserves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz also knows that this is her moment to make amends and to show Jess what she feels in a way that leaves no room for misinterpretation. She leans in and kisses her with as much emotion as she can convey and it feels perfect. She feels her body come alive at the contact and sighs in disappointment as they separate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Correct me if I'm wrong but unless I hit my head so hard I'm hallucinating, you just kissed me," Jess murmurs. Yaz wavers, suddenly uncertain about how things are going to go. Maybe she'd read the signs wrong. Maybe she'd fucked things up for good. That was a possibility she hadn't given much thought to. Perhaps kissing Jess without a much better explanation isn’t going to cut it after what happened before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I...yeah. I'm sorry, Jess. Literally everything I thought I knew has gone right out the window. And I was really, really confused. I still am, a bit, but it’s getting easier." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz mentally facepalms at her choice of words because she's pretty sure someone as self-assured as Jess would run a mile from someone who is confused about their sexuality. The kiss has thrown her. But the other woman surprises her with a more sympathetic response than Yaz thinks she deserves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Life has a way of pulling the rug from under your feet," Jess replies, running a hand tiredly over her face. She looks wan and Yaz can already see a vivid bruise forming around the cut on her head, but in that moment, she is the most beautiful woman that Yaz has ever seen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz tells her that, the words feeling a little strange and untested at first, but she quickly adapts to her new reality. She finds other women beautiful. She finds Jess beautiful. And the moment the words land, Jess’s face lights up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now I know you’re just trying to get in my pants.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up,” Yaz laughs, feeling her face grow warm with either embarrassment or happiness, she can’t tell which. Emboldened, she stretches out her arm, letting it come to rest on Jess’s waist as the other woman yawns. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should sleep. Get your strength up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm. I think I’m going to need it in the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's amazing that Yaz gets any sleep at all after that.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Before Yaz even wakes up fully, she knows she isn’t alone. She’s warm, borderline hot, and something soft is pressed against her back, an arm around her waist keeping her close. It doesn’t take her long to realise that it’s Jess behind her, although she’s a little disoriented by the fact that the bedside lamp is still on and it’s broad daylight outside. The storm has abated. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The accident</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thinks. She remembers how Jess ended up in her bed, and resists the instant urge to turn around and check on her. She’s breathing, Yaz can feel as much because they’re pressed so closely together. They must have slept through the rest of the night because Yaz can’t remember waking; in fact, she can’t remember any of her dreams, which is odd in itself. The day doesn’t feel real, to the point where Yaz realises she has to see Jess with her own eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turns slowly, hoping not to wake her bedmate, and even then she can’t quite believe her luck. Jess looks so peaceful asleep that Yaz just watches her, feeling herself relax in her presence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can feel you watching me,” Jess murmurs, eyes still closed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz can feel her heart thud against her ribs in surprise but decides to fake it until she makes it.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just making the most of the opportunity.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess cracks an eye open, and Yaz is relieved to note that she seems alert and awake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do I look?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beautiful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Flirting with Jess comes easily, she realises. She likes it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Smooth talker,” Jess replies, her other eye opening as she abandons the pretence of sleep to gaze at Yaz fully. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m working on it,” Yaz admits. She runs her palm along Jess’s side, feeling her ribs rise and fall with her breathing. It’s nice to feel her so close.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you sleep alright?” Jess asks, stifling a yawn beneath her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I did. How about you? How’s your head?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess scrunches her face experimentally, hand trapped by Yaz’s own when she goes to reach for the bandage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not as achey. Fit for purpose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz can’t help but wonder if there’s a second meaning to Jess’s words but her face isn’t giving anything away. Their proximity means that it would be easy to just...lean in and kiss one another, and she takes the initiative. It doesn’t take much; she’s drawn to Jess like a magnet, impossible to resist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wondered when you were going to do that,” Jess smiles when Yaz pulls away. “I don’t want to push you into anything, you know. This is all a bit new for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz nods, but that simple kiss has started a chain reaction that she can barely control, never mind ignore. And if Jess is letting her take the lead then she needs to be the one to make the first move. She’s quiet for too long, though, because Jess frowns in concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Yaz. Are you alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz nods again, wondering how to put her thoughts into words. She realises it would be pointless and she decides to act instead of think. She’s done so much thinking in recent days that action is what she needs. And if she overthinks this, she’ll lose her nerve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’s eyes widen as Yaz confidently moves to straddle her, bracing herself with hands on either side of Jess's head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never better,” Yaz replies, ignoring the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. When Jess’s strong hands come to rest on her hips she realises just how intimately they’re positioned and the realisation fuels the fire that’s started to burn inside her. It feels good to be this close and now Yaz just wants to be even closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are we doing this?" Jess asks. If they're going to cross a line, they need to be sure. And this particular line is a big one. Yaz has never crossed it before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Yaz says, simply. She can see Jess’s pulse jumping in her neck and she's sure hers is racing just as fast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their next kiss already feels different. It is far less tentative and far more demanding and although part of her wants to slow things down, Yaz also wants to throw caution to the wind and grab a hold of this with both hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Much like Jess grabs hold of her, fingers scrambling with the bottom of her t-shirt. They start tugging and Yaz pushes herself upright, stripping the material off before she can second-guess herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They kiss again, raw and needy, and then Jess's mouth opens beneath her and she's kissing Yaz so deeply that it takes her breath away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You should get out of these clothes," Yaz says, breath trembling. Together, they shove the sheets to one side and then Yaz helps Jess sit up before she tugs at the bottom of her hoodie, then her t-shirt. Despite all of the skin already on show, Yaz feels greedy; she wants to see more, to feel every part of the woman underneath her. It makes her impatient and Jess clearly realises because she offers to help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Here. Let me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gently eases the material over her head and Yaz is entranced. She’d already seen Jess bare herself yesterday but this time she can reach out and touch her, and she does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She raises a tentative hand to cup her breast, delighting in the way that Jess's eyes close when her thumb brushes across her nipple. It gives her the confidence to try the same thing with her tongue, and when Jess's hand comes to rest on the back of her head and she lets out a sigh of contentment, Yaz realises that she enjoys this far more than she thought she might. With her mouth preoccupied, her hands hold onto the sides of Jess's stomach, warming the skin there. She's soft, so soft, and Yaz can't help but contrast the feeling with all of her experiences to date. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It does not compare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you sure you've not done this before?" Jess quips, and Yaz is surprised to feel her trembling slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Never. How am I doing?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Brilliantly," Jess sighs happily, before reaching for the clasp of Yaz's bra. "May I?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz nods. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest and wonders if it's visible when the material falls away. But rather than look, Jess simply lays back, pulling Yaz with her. The feel of their bare breasts touching is new and takes Yaz by surprise because she never could  have guessed how good, or intimate, it would feel to have another woman's breasts pressed against her own. Jess's hands skim the skin of her back as they kiss again, and when a firm thigh shifts so it rests between her legs, Yaz feels that she's probably the most aroused she's ever been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those hands come to rest on her backside, guiding her to grind against Jess's thigh. As her hips tilt, Yaz gasps into the kiss as pressure makes itself known against her clit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What are you doing to me?" she gasps, taken aback by the surprisingly intense wave of pleasure that accompanies the movement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Getting to know you," Jess replies, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what they're about to do seems suddenly real and Yaz pulls away a little, brimming with nerves. Things are moving fast and her concept of what happens next is very vague. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's ok. I know it's intense. But that's what makes it so good," Jess says, trying to reassure her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know what to do," Yaz replies, feeling out of her depth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why don't I show you?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, Jess moves with surprising grace and pushes Yaz onto her back, reversing their positions. Yaz feels her breathing falter as she looks up at the most beautiful woman she's ever met gazing at her with pure lust in her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We don't have to do anything else," Jess insists, mistaking her silence for doubt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz shakes her head rapidly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You need to touch me. Please," she whispers, as if saying the words too loudly will make them real. But this situation is very real, as Jess makes patently obvious when she latches onto the sensitive skin underneath Yaz's ear and starts kissing her there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The faint aroma of coconut infiltrates Yaz’s nose and she realises she can smell Jess's shampoo. And sunscreen. But there's also a scent that is uniquely Jess, one that surrounds Yaz as the other woman worships her body. Whatever Jess is doing is far more attentive and effective than whatever previous lovers have done and Yaz is uncertain whether that's because she's a woman who knows how this feels, or because this is Jess who is kissing her. Or both, Yaz thinks, as hair tickles her ribs when Jess reaches her chest and suddenly Yaz has to hold onto the bedsheets for dear life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody has ever paid as much attention to her breasts and Yaz can't help the cry that escapes her mouth when Jess sets to work. She wonders if she could come from this alone and when Jess looks up to check she's alright, the sight of her wet lips and mussed hair makes Yaz groan. Loudly. The image imprints itself into her brain and for someone who is normally reserved in bed, Yaz can sense an imminent loss of control if Jess moves even further south.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which, of course, she does when Yaz nods. After tugging off Yaz's shorts, Jess starts to kiss the skin of her thighs, working her way inwards. And when she reaches the scar on her inner thigh, she leaves even softer kisses on it and she is so gentle that Yaz can feel the muscle underneath tremble with tension.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air leaves Yaz's lungs in a rush and she laughs nervously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're beautiful,” Jules murmurs. “You don't need to hide from me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fingers intertwine with her own and Yaz feels anchored, safe. Jess is good at that. Yaz holds on tight as Jess's head moves to the space between her legs, holding her breath when she reaches her underwear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait," she blurts, breaths coming in a rush. Jess looks up, waiting for her to explain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nobody's done that before." Yaz can't quite bring herself to say the exact words, but Jess can. Of course she can. She's the most expressive person Yaz has ever known.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nobody's ever gone down on you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz feels her cheeks blush and she shakes her head briefly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, they're missing out on the finer things in life," Jess comments. "But I don't need to do this if it'll make you uncomfortable."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think you might need to do it," Yaz admits. "And I don't think it'll take long."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"For the first one, maybe," Jess smirks as she hooks her fingers into elastic and tugs. Yaz realises she needs to help and shifts, lifting her hips so Jess can pull the material from beneath her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She feels the cool air and suddenly the nature of what's about to happen makes her feel very exposed. But Jess is looking at her in awe. She bites her lip, eyes wide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"God, Yaz. I can't believe you're mine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The possessive statement has the desired effect and Yaz feels her brain short-circuit as she contemplates just how Jess is going to take her. She can feel the warmth of Jess's breath on her inner thighs as her fingers part her gently. Yaz resists the urge to hide her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay?" she checks in, waiting for Yaz's nod to proceed. Yaz tries to watch but the moment that Jess's mouth envelops her she simply forgets how to function. Her breath catches in her chest; her back arches, taught, as Jess's tongue traces her most sensitive skin, slick and clever. Yaz had no idea what to expect but this was better than she could have imagined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as Jess reaches her clit, Yaz can't swallow the moan that escapes, although it barely registers. Jess clearly knows what she's doing and that mouth of hers is so talented that Yaz predicts she's going to come embarrassingly fast. She seems to know exactly what Yaz needs and all Yaz can do is hold on for the ride.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” she mutters, hands clenching in the sheets as Jess hums against her, not even allowing a millimetre of room as she continues to wind Yaz up with frightening efficiency. The loss of control would be nerve-wracking if it didn’t feel so damn good, Yaz thinks, and she embraces it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn't really have much of a choice because Jess seems determined to make this as enjoyable as possible for her. Yaz shudders as lips seal around her clit, sucking lightly as that wicked tongue flickers over it in a pattern just distracting enough to keep her on the edge. It's not teasing but it's a very deliberate way of wringing as much pleasure as she can out of Yaz and Jess is clearly enjoying herself in the process. That simple fact alone causes another wave of arousal and Yaz feels so treasured that she could almost cry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The body between her legs shifts and then there is pressure at her entrance. The feeling makes her glance down between her legs and Jess is already looking up at her, still mouthing at her softly and asking for permission with her eyes alone. Her cheeks are flushed and her jaw moves subtly and all Yaz can do is nod because words fail her. Her eyes roll back in her head as Jess's fingers slip inside, two of them. Just enough to feel a stretch that Yaz accommodates with a rock of her hips, as if she's trying to pull Jess deeper inside. It's amazing, really, how adequate fingers can be, and Yaz feels so full. Knowing that it's Jess inside her makes her clench around her fingers, and when they curve upwards and hit a spot inside, Yaz knows she is screwed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh my god," she whimpers at the sensation of delicious pressure being punched inside with every thrust. She tightens around Jess's fingers, and another rush of wetness guides them as they methodically pump inside her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She's so wet that she can now hear the noise they make as Jess fucks her expertly. Normally, she might have been embarrassed, but Jess is making enthusiastic noises of her own, soft hums as she relentlessly licks and sucks at Yaz's clit. They're both enjoying this immensely if the sound of their harsh breathing is anything to go by. Yaz is startled to realise that she's moaning louder and louder as she feels her climax approaching, the noises practically ripped from her throat without permission, but right now she does not care. She's usually quiet in bed but Jess is persistent, pushing her towards orgasm like a woman possessed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess. It's Jess who is doing this, making her feel this way. Jess who is inside her, fucking her like she never wants to stop. The thought tips Yaz over the edge and she feels herself clenching hard around Jess's fingers, shaking her way through the strongest orgasm she's had in a long time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, fuck," Yaz moans, throwing an arm over her face as she recovers. She feels like she’s struggling to breathe and the aftershocks linger, even once Jess has pulled out. Yaz fully expects her to join her on the pillows but when soft lips kiss her clit again, Yaz realises that Jess wasn’t kidding when she implied that Yaz would be coming more than once. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess moves more slowly now, like she knows the first one has taken the edge off and she can take her time mapping Yaz out. Despite the air conditioning, Yaz feels a sheen of sweat break out on her skin as Jess wrings out every possible spark of pleasure from her body. Yaz had no idea it was even possible to feel like this and it’s almost overwhelming. But Jess keeps her just on the right side of pleasure and it isn’t long before she’s coming again, losing her senses briefly as the wave crests and she’s lost underneath it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s rescued by the other woman, who pulls her close and wraps her arms around her, murmuring words in her ear that Yaz can’t quite make sense of but that help anchor her in reality. It’s a tenuous grip but gradually the room shifts back into focus and she is surrounded by Jess. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” she says, feeling shaken. “I’ve never…twice..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess smirks slightly and Yaz pushes at her, shocked at how weak her arm is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You broke me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly what I was hoping for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They lie there for a while, talking quietly. Jess wraps Yaz in her arms and it feels so easy, so comfortable, that Yaz wonders what she was so scared of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to make you feel that good,” Yaz eventually says, feeling her energy return. “I just don’t know how.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You already have. I've never been this turned on before,” Jess confesses. “Why don’t you feel for yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess takes her hand and guides it underneath her pyjama shorts and between her legs so quickly that it takes Yaz a moment to grasp that she has her hand between another woman’s legs. Once she adjusts to the idea - it takes surprisingly little time - Yaz is shocked to feel just how wet Jess is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"See? That's because of you." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz can only blink in surprise at the admission. She can't quite get her head around the fact that she's made Jess this wet without even touching her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her fingers slide through slick heat experimentally and as she gains confidence, Yaz starts to circle her clit carefully. It’s not too dissimilar from what she does to herself, except this is much more fun because Jess is moaning quietly in her ear with every pass of her fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s that?” she murmurs, and Jess simply nods, mouth hanging open as Yaz adds slight pressure. It takes a bit of practice but she’s a quick learner and despite the slightly awkward way they’re lying together, Yaz takes it in her stride. She’s not sure what she was so worried about, really, because this has to be one of the best moments of her life to date. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t stop,” Jess pants against her skin, eyes screwed shut, and Yaz slides an arm under her neck, holding her shoulder as her own arm starts to move more confidently between them. It feels a little stilted and far less experienced than what Jess has just done to her but the other woman doesn’t seem to care if her moans are anything to go by. Yaz feels a little flush of pride as she watches pleasure pass over Jess’s face; pleasure put there by her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Inside, I need you inside me,” Jess moans even louder when Yaz passes over her clit more firmly. It's the first time that anybody has ever said that particular phrase to Yaz and a wave of arousal passes through her as the words sink in. Jess's legs open wider, and who is she to refuse an invitation like that? She feels a rush of power at the idea that she can provoke such a response; the fact that Jess needs her in such an intimate way gives her a huge boost of confidence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Together, they work to remove the shorts and Yaz bites her lip as she moves her hand downwards, letting two fingertips dip inside. It feels strangely familiar but also really not, and blunt fingernails dig into the bare skin of her arm as Yaz wets her fingers and starts to ease them inside the other woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Yaz,” Jess groans, and Yaz keeps going, encouraged by the feel and the sounds Jess is making. They're addictive. Hearing her name on Jess’s lips only spurs Yaz on, determined to make her feel good, and she’s so focused that she barely notices what she’s doing. It starts to come naturally, and when Yaz looks down to see her fingers as they slip inside, she feels a fresh spike of arousal. Her hand is slick but it means that her palm glides against Jess’s clit with every thrust, punctuated by increasingly loud moans from beneath her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t stop,” Jess moans, and the air between them is hot and heavy but Yaz wouldn’t move away for all the money in the world. She can feel Jess breathe against the damp skin of her neck, hear her moans and whimpers right by her ear. It feels like she can’t quite get enough air in her lungs but there is no way she can stop now. Not when she can feel Jess tightening around her like a vice, legs shifting restlessly as the pleasure builds between them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re gonna make me come.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re the sweetest words that Yaz has ever heard and she captures Jess’s lips in a delighted kiss. But after a few moments Jess tears her mouth away as she comes hard, crying out into the room as she pants against Yaz’s cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Christ,” she whines, and Yaz can feel the muscles around her fingers spasm beautifully as Jess climaxes. It’s the most amazing thing she’s ever felt and Yaz resolves to experience it more than once. But for now she’s exhausted, and she eases out of Jess when the tremors subside, hushing her protests. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take it easy,” she says, kissing Jess on the forehead near the blossoming bruise. They’re both sweaty and probably in dire need of a shower but Yaz is certain she’s never felt so sated. She rolls onto her back, extending an arm, and Jess moves into her side like it’s second nature. They fit together so well that Yaz has to look down to see how that works. Jess is moulded against her side, chest heaving, an arm flung across Yaz’s waist. Her mouth rests close to Yaz’s breast but in a way that’s comforting, rather than arousing. It’s nice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not bad for a learner,” Jess jokes, and Yaz pokes her in the ribs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d say that was pretty good,” she protests, but she knows from the way that Jess looks at her that she was only joking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty amazing, really,” Jess admits. “We’re doing that again, right?”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry, "Jo" from chapter 9, but you probably won't like this either 😎 to everyone else who has been lovely, thank you ❤️</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They make up for lost time. And time itself seems to lose all sense of meaning for Yasmin Khan, who devotes every waking second to learning all that she can about Jess. She’s not sure she’ll ever stop learning but she’s going to do her best, for as long as she can. Recent events suggest that life is more unpredictable than she realises, and right now she can’t imagine what the future holds. But if Jess is in it for at least the short-term, Yaz can’t imagine she’d be anything other than happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess shuts the dive shop for the rest of the week. They agree that she needs some time to recover; the silver lining is that now they have all the time in the world to get to know each other that much better. And this particular morning, Yaz is learning the finer points about going down on a woman.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep doing- that,” Jess moans, her breaths coming rapidly as Yaz winds her up to a mindblowing climax. They’ve discovered that both of them are competitive and driven, which makes the sex that much more intense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz couldn’t stop even if she wanted to and prides herself on her stamina as Jess comes, her hand clenching in Yaz's hair as she grinds against her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You good?" Yaz asks, catching her breath as Jess slumps back onto the mattress. Once she'd got over her initial nerves, Yaz discovered she enjoyed going down on another woman quite a lot. So much so that it had quickly become her new favourite hobby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Jess sighs happily. "Very."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz stays between her legs, wiping her chin with the back of her hand when she sees Jess watching. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fucking hell,” Jess whimpers, limbs still shivering with the aftershocks. “I’ve created a monster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You have." Yaz slides her hands underneath Jess's thighs, feeling the tremors for herself and holding her in place. "I think that'll make this next one number four."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess laughs at that, mock groaning at the thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you trying to kill me off?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although it's a joke, the sentiment hits a little close to home and Yaz abandons her plan, crawling back up the bed to wrap Jess in her arms. She leaves a kiss on the tender skin of her forehead, a reminder of the incident that brought them together under circumstances so unusual that Yaz has to pinch herself to realise they actually happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reality sinks in when Jess's stomach rumbles a few minutes later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hungry?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know it, babe."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The endearment is new and it takes Yaz about a millisecond to decide that she likes it. One of her exes had used it but it had never seemed quite right. Coming from Jess, though, it fits. Quite a lot of things seem to fit with her. The way they fit together is an obvious one and Yaz sighs contentedly as their bodies mould around one another like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let's go down and get some food. Maybe go for a swim?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do we have to move?" Yaz sighs, knowing full well that they need to eat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The only way I'll let you do that again is if I know I have the energy to do the same to you," Jess points out. She starts to laugh when the suggestion jolts Yaz into action.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A quick shower later - despite their inability to keep their hands off one another in the cubicle, both of them really are quite ravenous for proper food - and they find themselves in Graham's bar, ordering curries and drinks as they watch the tide come in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright?" he asks, gaze zeroing in on Jess's forehead. "How's that skull of yours?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Solid," Jess confirms, lifting her hand to rap her knuckles against it but thinking better of it when Yaz lets out a sound of protest. "Just waiting for it to heal properly before I open up the shop again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She loops an arm around Yaz's waist like it's second nature and Yaz fights the urge to freeze, instead trying  to relax into the contact. It's nice, after all, and Graham of all people wouldn't judge them. The opposite, in fact, because he clearly notices and a broad grin breaks out across his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I see you two are back on good terms," he winks at Yaz, and she leans into Jess's protective embrace instinctively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You could say that," she agrees, and she feels Jess chuckle where her hand rests against her ribs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaves them to it after he takes their orders, sensing that they would appreciate some privacy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You okay?" Jess asks as she takes a sip of her beer. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. It'll just take some getting used to."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It will. But promise me you'll tell me if you don't feel happy with anything?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess seems uncertain and Yaz can't help herself. She takes Jess's face in her hands and kisses her soundly, in the middle of a busy bar. She wonders if public displays of affection will get any easier but in the meantime, all she cares about is the woman next to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I promise. I don't think it's possible for me not to be happy with anything right now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz feels like she's floating and even though Jess calls her a sap, she can see that her feelings are reciprocated. Only the arrival of their lunch stops them from jumping one another. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So when Jess suggests they spend some time by the beach, Yaz wrestles for a moment with the intense desire to take her back to bed, instead, but her decision is made easier when Jess steps onto the sand and strips off her vest top, leaving her in her trademark rainbow bikini. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz realises her head is nodding of its own volition and she follows Jess onto the sand, almost stumbling over a coconut because she's too entranced by the slope of Jess's shoulders to look where she's going.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How on earth had she not realised she felt like this until now? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz plonks herself onto the sand with minimal grace, leaving Jess to slip into the surf and start to swim out to sea. She's amazed that Jess isn't afraid to go back in, given what happened, but then she doesn't seem to be daunted by anything. Still, Yaz can't help but keep an eye on her as she starts to do leisurely laps parallel to the beach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her concentration is interrupted by a shadow. The beach is reasonably busy and every now and again, people cast shade as they cross in front of her, but this particular shadow stays put. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz holds a hand to her brow to shield her eyes from the sun and looks up into a silhouette that seems vaguely familiar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There you are," a familiar voice chides and as the woman's face becomes visible, Yaz is so surprised that she leaps to her feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Clara! What are you doing here?" she asks, genuinely shocked to see her. She pulls the shorter woman into a hug, backpack and all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fresh off the boat, as you can see, and wondering where I might find you. This island really is small, isn't it? I've been here less than an hour."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz can't help but let her eyes drift over Clara's shoulder to see how Jess is getting on. Something is nagging at her but she doesn't realise what it is until Clara turns in time to see Jess emerge from the water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks like something out of a movie, running a hand through her wet hair as water cascades down her skin, droplets clinging to her chest and stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait a second, a rainbow bikini? Is that…?" Clara asks, squinting into the glare of the sun, and Yaz can't help but laugh that Clara's jaw has dropped just as much as her own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess beams at them as she makes her way back up the beach. She squints a little when she notices Clara, clearly surprised to see Yaz talking to someone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hi! How are you doing?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Much better, now," Clara practically purrs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz tries not to roll her eyes. This is what had been worrying her - she'd told Clara to come and see Jess for herself, back when she was in denial about her own feelings. Despite everything that's happened, she can't help but feel a sliver of worry that Clara might make a move or that Jess might be interested in her. Clara is magnetic, and Yaz...Yaz is still not entirely sure what Jess sees in her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm Clara, a friend of Yaz's."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Clara, nice to meet you." If Jess has noticed the staring she's not fazed. Yaz imagines she's used to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm Jess." She holds out a hand, which Clara instantly takes hold of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I figured."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess raises an eyebrow as they shake hands for far too long and Yaz clears her throat, breaking the spell and freeing Jess to pick up her towel. She starts to dry herself, apparently unaware of the effect she’s had on both of the women in front of her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I met Clara back in Bangkok and we kept in touch,” Yaz explains. “Told her all about this place and I suppose she had to come and see it for herself,” Yaz says, but she deliberately looks at Clara as if to ask for an explanation for her arrival. She hopes more than anything that Clara isn’t following through on her threat of coming to see Jess. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she needn’t have worried; Jess clearly only has eyes for her, which is apparent when she drops the towel back onto the sand and brushes a salty kiss against her lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz smiles into it, worries momentarily forgotten, and nearly misses the look of shock painting Clara's face when they separate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I missed you. Gonna get us some drinks." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess turns to Clara and Yaz tries not to laugh at her goldfish expression. She's practically gawping, her doe eyes wider than Yaz had thought possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Clara would you like anything?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, no...I'm good," Clara mumbles, and her stammering fades into the background as Jess drops another kiss, this time on the top of Yaz's head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Back in a mo."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She strides up the beach and Yaz can't help but watch her go, eyes fixed on her bikini bottoms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yaz? What did I miss?"</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>When Jess returns Yaz has barely covered the basics, but she grinds to a halt once the subject of the conversation is in earshot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought I felt my ears burning," Jess smirks, handing Yaz a soft drink. "Please, don't stop on my account."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh I definitely will," Yaz retorts. "I'll give you the synopsis later but I'm pretty sure you know how the story ends."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stare at one another for so long that Clara has to clear her throat to get their attention. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think I'm interrupting…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, sorry, Clara. I should let you catch up." Jess winks at Yaz. "I could do with popping home and getting some things. It's been a while. I'll swing by later, Yaz?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Yaz can protest, she wraps her towel around her shoulders and waves them farewell, meandering back to the bar. Yaz sighs heavily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hasn't been home in a while, eh?" Clara says, bumping Yaz with her shoulder. She may be small but she's deceptively strong and Yaz scowls as she rubs the point of contact. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oi. Your mind just happens to live in the gutter."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clara raises an eyebrow as Yaz continues to dig a hole for herself, explaining about a storm and an accident of some kind, before she takes pity and holds up a hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, okay. Relax, Yaz. This isn't the Spanish Inquisition. But I do think I need a drink before I hear all about this."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz realises that there's no avoiding the imminent discussion and resigns herself to her fate, following her pint-sized friend into the bar and snagging a table near the back. Clara quickly flags down a passing waitress and it isn’t long before a pina colada is deposited in front of her, condensation already running down the sides of the glass in the afternoon heat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m guessing you revised your stance on ‘just guys’ then?” Clara starts, and Yaz feels her hackles rising. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I can sense the tension from here. Relax. I’m just genuinely surprised. Pleasantly surprised,” Clara smiles, taking a sip of her cocktail. “God, that’s better. That boat ride was something else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz forces herself to relax. Clara’s right - this isn’t meant to be an interrogation, and she should get used to answering questions about this new facet of her love life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was wrong,” she admits, starting to peel the label off her bottle. She can’t seem to keep her hands still and she thrums with nervous energy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of all the people to change your mind for, I can see why you would for that particular woman,” Clara sighs, leaning back into her chair. “But what brought this all on? It’s not been that long since I saw you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew something was different almost straight away,” Yaz concedes. “There’s just this...energy about her, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Energy, yes, but it also doesn’t hurt that she’s so easy on the eye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz can feel herself blushing slightly as she nods her head. She’s never talked about someone like that before, never mind a woman, but Clara is spot on. Jess is the most beautiful person she's ever met.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And yet I sense you’re a bit hesitant about all this,” Clara observes. For someone who barely knows her, Clara seems to be pretty spot on with her interpretation of the situation, and Yaz wonders if it’s just that obvious. It wouldn't be the first time she was last to realise something. She starts to peel her label with dogged determination, removing it fully before she answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t quite see my life panning out like this, is all. I just imagined a future in the police, marriage, kids, a normal life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clara deposits her drink with a thud on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And there’s nothing stopping you from having that,” Clara says, and the straightforward logic throws Yaz for a second. “You can have all of that with anybody you like. Why does it have to be a guy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because…” Yaz falters. “Because that’s what I’d pictured. That’s what my family expect.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think they’ll have a problem with this? With you being this happy? Because I’ve got to tell you, Yaz, you look a hell of a lot happier than you did when I first saw you in Bangkok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz considers the question properly, prodding it from all angles. Would her mum care? Would she be disappointed? Her sister would probably take the piss but she knows her dad wouldn’t bat an eye, so long as she was happy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz shrugs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I’ll find out,” she finally says. And it really is as easy as that. A load of some kind has been lifted in her acceptance of what's to come.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know it’s not particularly fun to think about,” Clara says, and her expression darkens briefly. Yaz wants to ask but knows it’s not the time. “But this whole thing - it doesn’t define you, you know that, right? It’s a part of you that you’ve just discovered. It doesn’t change who you are. And Jess will be there, if that makes it any easier. Talking of…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clara trails off, looking over Yaz’s head. They can’t have been talking for more than an hour or so but when Yaz turns to see Jess enter the bar, it feels like she’s not seen her in far longer. The intensity of her need to be around Jess is a little intense, which is frightening, but Yaz has to be brave. She’s run away for far too long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She doesn’t have any single friends, does she?” Clara asks, openly staring as Jess makes her way over to them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll ask,” Yaz murmurs. “If you’ll stop staring.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agreed,” Clara smirks, getting to her feet just as Jess reaches them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, you’re not going, are you?” Jess asks as she gives Yaz’s shoulder a quick squeeze. The contact leaves a welcome trail of warmth that leaves the skin tingling. Yaz shifts in her seat, surprised to find that she’s aroused by the simple touch. Yep, definitely not straight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah well, just for now. I wouldn’t want to third wheel. Besides, I could do with finding a place to dump all of this,” Clara says, jerking a thumb at her backpack, which has fallen to the floor. She brushes sand from it before she hefts it onto her back and Yaz distantly wonders when she’ll resume her own backpacking adventure. Things thus far hadn’t quite gone to plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Well if you need a place to stay, you should ask Graham, behind the bar. He’ll give you mates rates.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? Excellent,” Clara grins. She frowns a moment later. “I’ll just ask that he doesn’t put me in a neighbouring room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess laughs aloud and it takes Yaz a moment to realise what Clara is insinuating; by the time it clicks, Clara has already headed over to the bar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s not wrong,” Jess grins, flopping into the newly vacated seat. “You can be loud.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz can feel herself blushing furiously but her response comes so quickly that she’s almost proud of herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s see if I can make you louder.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“I know you cheated on me, by the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz lifts her head from Jess’s chest in alarm, knocking Jess’s hand out of the way from where it’s stroking her hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You went diving with another boat,” Jess supplies, and Yaz feels her heart rate settle. She knew she hadn’t done anything wrong but the thought of messing things up was an ever-present concern. Everything was so new, so untested, that it felt like she was walking on a tightrope without a safety net. It was thrilling, but incredibly nerve-wracking, especially for a control freak like Yasmin Khan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t do that,” she grumbles, tickling Jess in the ribs as she returns her head to its very comfortable resting spot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Jess murmurs, resuming her soothing caresses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s late, and both of them are dozing after an evening spent wrapped up in one another. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When are you going to open up the shop again?” Yaz asks after a moment. “Not that I want you to hurry. I kind of want you all to myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm,” Jess hums, and Yaz can hear it where her ear is pressed against her chest. She memorises every sound she can hear, including her heartbeat. It’s solid and reassuring and Yaz never wants to not hear it again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might take a little break. That accident opened my eyes a bit. I got reckless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could have died,” Yaz agrees, tightening her hold around Jess’s waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re silent for a moment, absorbing the ramifications of the accident and all that followed. Yaz can’t help but feel a little responsible for Jess’s reckless behaviour and she’s trying to figure out how to broach the subject when the other woman surprises her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I might stay on land for a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You make it sound like you’re some kind of amphibian,” Yaz laughs lightly, feeling her nerves dissipate a little. Jess always knows what to say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In a past life, maybe. What do you think? I thought, maybe, if you didn’t mind….”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz lifts her head again at the uncharacteristic nervousness on display. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you want to explore together?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words come out in a rush and Yaz is tickled to see a blush colour Jess’s cheeks. Perhaps she’s not the only one who’s finding all of this nerve-wracking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz bites back her first response, which is an immediate yes. She tries to be logical but inside, her heart is leaping at the prospect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about your shop?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Time for a change of scene, I reckon. One of the other divemasters can run it for a bit. I thought I might tag along with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yaz can’t help but nod, then; she’s asked the sensible question. Well, one of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where next?” Yaz asks, feeling adrenaline and excitement course through her in equal measure. The future looked brighter than it ever had, due in large part to the woman lying with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess purses her lips but Yaz can tell she already has an answer in mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With you? I was thinking...everywhere.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, you can find me on Twitter @_mag_lex.</p><p>My fics are now on WordPress at maglexfic.wordpress.com. You should be able to subscribe there to all my new ones, since I won't be posting any new fics to Ao3 for the foreseeable future :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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